Page 1 of Ruthless Monsters

Chapter

One

~ Nate ~

Damp earth. Sweat. Sulphur. The pungent smell of rotting eggs combined with the stench of unwashed bodies thickens the air, and for a moment, I think I’m in the dungeons of Kanzepes, the beast realm. The sense of familiarity is shattered when a musky scent I can’t place reaches my nose, the unusual odor mixed with the distinct smells of oil, blood, and something nutty. My instincts shout a warning at me, and when my eyes fly open, I find a strange creature towering over my form.

The being’s bottom half is that of a winged stallion, with four muscular legs and massive feathery wings folded at its sides, but its top half is that of a man with long, dirty-brown hair, and an array of weapons secured in a belt around his waist. Grimy plates of battered armor cover the male’s otherwise bare chest, and he glares down at me with disgust. The shape of his face already gives it a squashed look, and the curl of his top lip only highlights those features.

“Well, you’re the fuckin’ ugliest demon I’ve ever seen,” I comment with a grin, even though it’s obvious we never made it to Seral, the demon realm. Princess Blake isn’t anywhere around me, a fact I’m certain of seein’ as her honey and cinnamon scent is absent from my nose, and while knowing this has my anger rising, I maintain my focus on the immediate threat in front of me. I’ll be useless to her if I’m dead. I’ve never heard of beasts with half-animal forms, so somehow, when we stepped through the portal and tried to return to Seral, we ended up somewhere else entirely. Prince Callan and Dante are still unconscious nearby, and going by the throbbing in my skull, we’d been knocked out by something strong.Which is just fuckin’ great.It had already been a journey making it through the demon king’s competition, and I’d been lookin’ forward to a nice bed and some proper food.Looks like I’m gonna have to wait a while longer.

As expected, the creature’s face flares with anger at my comment, and he rears up on his hind legs, his large hooves rising into the air. Before he can strike, I attempt to shift, knowing I’ll easily be able to gut this beast while in my agile jaguar form, but when I try to bring on the change, a sharp, searing pain shoots up my right leg. I’m caught off guard, and I snarl in surprise, struggling to my feet. I only just manage to glimpse the silver enchanted cuff around my ankle before the beast’s front hooves slam hard into my chest. I’m sent crashing back to the ground, the air violently stolen from my lungs, and before I can lift to my feet again, a large pickaxe lands heavily on my chest.

Cursing, I glare up at the male creature. “What the fuck is this?”

I’m referring to the cuff that’s stifling my magic, but the male replies, “A mining tool. Get to work or I’ll report your refusal to the king.” His voice is rough and scratched like something damaged his vocal cords, and he sneers down at me like I’mnothing more than the dirt beneath his hooves. “Something tells me he’s just looking for an excuse to end your miserable life.”

The king?I wrack my brain, wondering if any of the rulers from the allied realms could be responsible for this, but it’s too early to tell. Lowering my brows, I finally let myself assess the vast cavern I’m in. The space is connected to a network of narrow tunnels, and I assume these lead to more caves and caverns. The structure reminds me of an ant nest, but of course, it’s much larger in size. The only light I can detect comes from a few sparse glowing crystals embedded in the rocky ceiling high above, and going by the thick, stale air, I’m guessing I’m far underground.

Around me, dozens of figures mine the cavern I’m in, but unlike the creature before me, they appear almost human. Standing on two legs, some of them are around my height, except their filthy bodies are wiry and gaunt, and their backs are arched as they continue to hack at the stone, making them appear smaller. The steadytink! tink!of metal colliding with rock echoes in my ears, and aside from a few furtive glances, the other prisoners ignore me completely.

That’s right,prisoners. Because given where I am and the cuff on my ankle, it’s the only conclusion that makes sense. Somehow, I’ve been captured, but by whom and why, I have no idea. Given his armor and commanding attitude, it's obvious now that the half-horse creature in front of me is some kind of guard, and more guards like him are spread throughout the space, watching over the other prisoners with matching stern expressions.

A female prisoner collapses on the other side of the cavern, the pickaxe slipping from her grip as she falls hard to the ground, and a guard steps forward, shouting obscenities at her. Pulling out his whip, he uses it on her bony back, not stopping until the female crawls forward, struggling again to her feet,blood dripping through her torn clothing. Pain shines in her murky eyes, but she doesn’t cry. Her gaze briefly finds another prisoner before she hastily starts mining again, her thin arms straining as she lifts her pickaxe.

Well, fuck me.

“Move it, or you’ll get the same treatment,” my guard growls with a cruel twist of his lips.

I eye the whip tied to his belt, but I’m not dumb enough to test him. Not when my magic has been barred from me, and I have no idea what the fuck he’s capable of, magically and physically. Begrudgingly, I find my feet, grabbing the wooden handle of the pickaxe and turning to the wall of rock behind me.

That’s when I notice Alaric is already there, chipping away with his own pickaxe. I should have scented him, but I was too distracted by whatever fucked up place this is. Raising a brow, I give him an incredulous look.Bastard could have shouted a warnin’.The Drozac assassin ignores me, but I notice his left cheek is red and swollen like he’s just been smashed in the face.Well, that makes me feel a little better.

“What are we minin’ for?” I ask the guard, my muscles bunching as I swing the axe and drive the steel pick into stone. The rock cracks, and a small section pulls away from the cave wall, stones tumbling near my feet.

“Crystals go in there,” the guard points to a metal cart on wheels not too far away. “Make sure it’s full before the end of the day, or you’ll learn the hard way that dead weight doesn’t survive in this place.”

I glance up at the glowing crystals high above before bringing my pickaxe down again. “And how will we know when it’s time?”

“Because I’ll tell you,” the guard replies with a yellow-toothed smile, and he laughs like he’s just said something funny. His laughing soon turns to coughing, and he spits on the ground beside me, leaving a glob of yellow phlegm. I narrow my eyes,but otherwise, I don’t react. He’s not the first disgruntled guard I’ve had to deal with, and until I can get this cuff off me, I’m better off spending my energy working out how this place runs. Prisons, like most places, have their own systems and hierarchies of power at play. Once you can figure it out, you can find a way to make it work in your favor. At least, that’s how it was in the prisons I’ve had the pleasure of visiting in the past.

Groaning sounds to my left, and I turn my head as Prince Callan and Dante both regain consciousness. Our guard gives them the same treatment he gave me, and Prince Callan is livid when he realizes he can’t use his power. Dante’s tail flicks in agitation as he repeatedly asks about Blake, but the guard only shouts at him, dropping a pickaxe at the demon’s feet. Leaning down, Dante grabs hold of the axe, and just when I think he’s going to attack the guard again, he turns, slamming the pick into rock rather than the guard’s body.

Glowering at us, the guard watches from close by, but aside from a few shared glances, the four of us find a steady rhythm, excavating crystals. Keeping silent, we add to the echoes of clanging steel and grunts.

Time blurs as we work, but I’m sure hours have passed when a commotion starts up some distance to our right. “I said keep your eyes to yourself you bastard,” snarls a guard with a bald head and small eyes that look too close together. Careful not to slow my pace, I keep working as I snatch glances at the unfortunate prisoner who was caught staring in our direction. Our guard leaves his post, joining the other guard as they berate the prisoner.

“Where’s Blake?” Dante asks in a low voice now that our guard’s attention is finally elsewhere. The demon’s words are steady, but there’s a dark gleam in his eyes that betrays his emotions.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I reply, instinctively scanning the cavern again, even though I already know she’s not here. The cuff around my ankle might be blocking my ability to shift, but my heightened senses remain, and I still can’t detect my mate’s delicious honey and cinnamon scent. I try not to think about how it’s making me want to tear the limbs from the guards as they scream in agony.

“They took her,” Alaric growls under his breath, his massive muscles bulging as he slams his pickaxe into rock again.

Prince Callan’s eyes are as cold as ice. “Who did?”

Alaric’s muscles tighten. “A foreign king. It’s all they’ve given away.”

My nostrils flare as I think of my unbonded mate, and the urge to shift and hunt her down has my skin itching uncomfortably. Without thinking, I try to change into my animal, and I snarl under my breath when pain radiates up my leg, spreading from the cuff.Fuckin’ thing.Steeling myself, I check that our guard is still busy, then I peer at my cuff and take aim with my pickaxe.

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