Page 6 of Feral

When I finally sat up, the discomfort in my body made itself known tenfold. Pain flared in my arms and shoulders and pounded in my feet in time with my pulse. My wrists felt raw from the shackles, and when I looked down, I saw they were horribly bruised.

My face ached something terrible, and I knew that had been from when my father hit me right before I was taken. A shiver took root in me, and I grabbed a thick fur and draped it over me, shifting on the bed until my feet hung from the edge.

When I stood, my bare feet were met with hard, cold stone. I winced, knowing my soles were torn up, but despite the discomfort, I walked, gritting my teeth, and roamed the room.

The chamber I was in was enormous and beautiful. There were odd, ancient carvings on the walls designed with the gem veins that glowed brighter with each passing second.

As I slowly inspected the room and noted everything I saw, the more the air seemed to thicken with each breath I took.

A pair of massive wooden doors stood shut across from me, and I assumed them to be locked, keeping me prisoner inside. Bolted from the outside. No handle. No keyhole. No escape.

Panic rose in my throat like bile, and I shuffled over to the doors, reaching for one handle, fully expecting it to be locked. But when it turned and I could pull the massive and far too heavy door open, shock filled me.

Not a prisoner. At least not in this room.

When I heard movement, that shock changed to panic, and I scuttled back until I stood on the other side of the bed, the stone and wooden frame a barrier that I knew wouldn’t protect me.

I stared at the doors, hearing heavy footfall coming closer. And closer. And then, the doors groaned open, and the monster king entered.

My body reacted on instinct, and I tensed as he entered. His horns were huge and thick, his shoulders wide, and his muscles thick beneath the black leather and armor strapped across his chest. His arms were bare of leather, his skin a deep gray color that was unworldly and extremely mesmerizing.

His black eyes found me immediately, locking on me as if there were some unseen force keeping us in this silent war. He watched me like he was… searching for something.

I clutched the fur tighter, my heart hammering, the pain in my body taking a back seat as uncertainty of my future rose up.

He said nothing. Just… stared.

A part of me expected him to lunge, to pin me to the ground and claim me like a war prize, growling that I belonged tohimbecause he saved me.

“Are you hungry?”

As if those words triggered my body to respond, my belly growled, my mouth grew dry, and my throat tightened with thirst.

My lips parted but no words left. He nodded. Just once, as if he knew my thoughts. He left, the doors shutting behind him. I flinched at the sound, and I didn't know why.

What the hell was going on?

I let out a breath, wrapping the fur tighter as I stayed where I was and waited for him to return. And while I waited silently, I looked at the tapestries that hung above the bone and skull mantel.

The scenes stitched into them seemed to be from long ago, depictions of warring factions embroiled in brutal battles. There were monsters with numerous limbs, snarling beasts with glowing red eyes, creatures with spikes lining their back and two sets of fangs in their gaping mouths.

They clashed with each other, axes and claws and teeth being used as their weapons against each other.

And the longer I stared at these images, the more I swore the scenes moved as if alive. And then, the footsteps came again, and when the doors opened and the king stepped inside, I didn’t run. I didn't cower in fear. I tipped my chin and stared at him in defiance.

A smaller creature shrouded in a black robe came in behind the king, a massive tray in hand as it walked to the small table and set it down. And then, the beast servant left.

I tore my gaze away from the tray and stared at the king, my heart racing in my chest.

“I’m Blaylock, King of the Dark Realm of Shadow Vale. And you’re under my protection.” There was nothing else he said before he turned and left me alone.

I stood there staring at those double doors, then at the tray, before my gaze finally landed on a mirror in the far corner. It was tall and carved from white stone with little bits of bone and onyx sparkling gems embedded within it.

I approached it slowly, and the moment I saw my reflection, I felt my brow furrow at the woman staring back at me. I didn’t… recognize myself.

My eyes were wild, my skin too pale. My hair was a tangled mess of blonde strands around my dirty face. One eye was slightly swollen and bruised, and my lip was split.

I’d been abused my entire life only to be taken away and almost sold off as a slave. I was terrified of this world and this situation. I didn't know what Blaylock planned to do to me. I didn’t know if I was truly safe. But what I did know was that he could have killed me many times over already. Instead, he saved me, fed me, and offered me his protection.

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