Page 8 of Feral

I squeezed my eyes shut, breathed in and out slowly, and just said what needed to be said. “You can’t...” The words caught in my throat, but I forced them out. “You can’t just say things like that and expect me to believe I’m not a prisoner.” Fear twisted in my gut, and I started trembling. “I won’t belong to anyone ever again.”

The sound that left him was low and guttural—a growl that reverberated through the throne room. The air seemed to vibrate with its intensity, and out of my peripheral vision, I saw the blue firelight swaying from an unseen wind.

My body tightened, and I felt like prey caught in a snare, strung up right in front of a predator about to devour me whole.

“I want you as my equal. A slave isn’t what I desire nor need, little one.” This electrical charge moved over my arms and legs, and I shivered. “You are safe here, Katrina. But you mesmerize me. You intrigue me. I need to know all about you. I need to learn every facet and detail that makes you… you.”

It was strange hearing these things come from a male who wasn’t human. Who looked like he was plucked out of a terrifying dream and brought to life. But when he looked at me, his gaze touching me with this gentleness, it startled me. It… warmed me.

“I just… want you.”

I stared at him, my chest rising and falling rapidly. His words shouldn't have made my stomach flip, but they did. I shouldn’t have felt anything but fear and panic. But instead, I felt heatrising in my body, and a tingling flush was stealing along my neck and face.

Confusion filled me, but there was something primal and needy moving through my veins and settling right between my legs. I’d never felt anything like this—a warmth that felt forbidden.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, his voice softer now but still very much animalistic. “But my mercy and gentleness ends with you, sweetness.” His brows furrowed as if the very idea of being sweet and soft was foreign. And I realized he’d never shown compassion or empathy to another living being.

I watched him in silence, trying to decide what frightened me more—his power, his appearance, or that a part of me, a secret, shameful part, wanted everything he offered.

I was no longer in the world I knew. And a part of me realized I’d longed for that my entire life.

6

KATRINA

Icould still feel the heat of Blaylock’s hand on my waist and the weight of his black-eyed gaze locked on me even though he’d long since pulled away. A part of me assumed he’d press for more.

To claim me right in the throne room. To make me his in every irrevocable way.

But instead, he’d released me slowly, as if he’d been reluctant to let go. And I couldn’t deny that I longed for his touch again, to feel that huge hand on me, and to know that his strength was more powerful than anything I’d ever experienced.

I stood where I had stopped when first entering the room and watched Blaylock ascend the bone and crystal stone dais, his massive form turning to face me at the same time he sat on the throne. The look in his eyes as he stared at me was unreadable.

Not cold.

Not cruel. But something that made me crave and yearn for whatever he had to give me.

For long seconds, we just stayed like that, both silent as we stared at each other. He didn’t order me to do anything, and I felt an independence and power in that fact. Before Icould do anything, several cloaked beasts entered, speaking that strange language, but the tone told me whatever they said was important.

“Little one,” Blaylock said, addressing me. “I have some matters to tend to, but I encourage you to explore the castle. This is just as much your home as it is mine.”

That made my chest fill with comforting warmth. I backed away slowly, cautiously, keeping a wide berth from the cloaked figures until I reached the massive doors. I slipped through them but not before looking at Blaylock once more.

He leaned forward, his black gaze on me, this slow smirk curving his mouth and making my core instantly heat and wetness pool at the top my thighs. Before I could contemplate my bodily reactions to Blaylock, I quickly passed through the doors.

Once out of the throne room, the cool air in the hallway felt like a slap to my flushed skin. I wasn’t afraid of this strange, ghastly place but was unsure of what I would find. What I did know was I wasn’t returning to my room.

The halls were silent and empty as I wandered. The flickering, blue torches gave this beautiful, eerie glow to the dark walls and flooring. The castle was massive, and the numerous hallways made me feel like I was in a labyrinth.

The deeper I ventured, the more I realized this place—Blaylock’s domain—was not just a fortress. It was alive in an ominous and ethereal way, and that was evident by the glowing, pulsing light coming from the veins of crystal that ran through the structure.

The few castle staff I passed were cloaked, their visages hidden, which I found myself thankful for. The last thing I needed was more fear to settle in at seeing living, breathing monsters again.

I’d seen enough at the slave auction to last me a lifetime.

Despite the cloaks hiding their forms, I made out horns and claws, scales and glowing eyes hidden within the darkness.

I wrapped my arms tighter around myself and continued my exploration until I found a chamber with the large wooden door open. I stopped and stared at the stone statues lining either side of the entryway.

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