Sold to a Hybrid Prince

Chapter 7

I was screwed. I was so screwed. The moment I heard the door close, I turned to him, tears in my eyes. "Master, I am so--"

"Allister," he cut me off, stepping towards me.

I took a step back, shaking. "Al--Allister, I'm sorry. I--I didn't mean to ruin your breakfast. I just--" my voice cracked, making me cover my mouth with the back of my hand. The back of my knees hit the bed, making me let out a small squeal as I fell on it. I didn't even realize I was backing away from him, and he now stood in front of me, towering over my small frame. He extended his hand towards me, causing me to flinch. But all he did was keep it there, apparently wanting me to take it.

I gulped, staring at it.

"Stand up," he said, his tone oddly gentle.

I eyed it carefully, before placing my hand in his large one, the unusual coolness of his skin sending a chill through me. He helped me up, and lead me to the couch, gesturing for me to sit down. I reluctantly obliged, before he settled down on the table in front of me.

I chewed on my lower lip, looking anywhere but him, as the scene from earlier still played in my mind.

"Talk," Allister said.

I glanced at him, wiping away a lone tear that had rolled down my cheek.

"I'm so--"

"No," he cut me off, shaking his head. "Don't apologize, I'm not mad at you."

My eyebrows furrowed a little. "What?"

He leaned forward a little, resting his elbows on his thighs as he intertwined the fingers of his hands. "The way you reacted wasn't your fault. Anyone would freak out, especially considering it's merely your first day here. So it's alright, Xyla. I won't hurt you for showing your emotions," he spoke in a calm, soft tone.

I stared at him dumbfounded. Was he serious? Why would a master tell his pet that? He did know that anger is an emotion too, right?

He gave me a moment to digest his words, before he spoke again. "Tell me whatever is going on in that head. I don't want you to suffocate, trying to hold everything in."

"They... They killed her," I whispered, feeling the pain and fear starting to return again. I lowered my head and closed my eyes, leaning my nose on my closed fist. I didn't want him to see my face while I sobbed. I didn't want him to see how weak I was. "They killed her, and no one did anything. Our lives don't matter. We're just objects to you. We humans treat our pets way better than you guys! They celebrated her death, Allister." My tone held a lot of venom, and I gulped, wondering if I had overdone the speak your mind thing.

I didn't know how he was going to react after this.

But it did feel good to finally complain. To finally say it out loud for once.

I felt his hand wrap around my wrist, and my eyes shot open. He was kneeling in front of me, his gaze soft, as he gently moved my hand away from my face.

His eyes held what looked like sympathy. Pity even.

"I'm sorry," he said, still holding onto my hand.

My eyebrows furrowed in surprise, as I sniffed softly.

"I know it sucks for you guys, but it's how this world is. You're Inferiors, and we're Superiors. We have been designed by nature to be better than you, and that leaves you dependent on us. I know you're afraid, and it's completely understandable. But contrary to what you may think, you're not going to meet the same fate as that girl. Alright?" He raised his eyebrows.

The way he spoke was weirdly comforting, even despite the thousand wrong things about his words. I mean, I could tell that he was at least trying to comfort me.

I blinked, allowing another tear to fall.

"You... You won't kill me?" I whispered.

It sounded so odd.

"I won't," he promised. "I told you, I'm not gonna hurt you for no reason." He gently wiped away the tears from my face, making me inch away slightly.

I took a deep breath, looking away from him. "And--and if I mess up? If I do something that makes you mad?"

"Will you do it on purpose?"

I quickly shook my head.

"Then relax. I won't punish you for anything you do not do intentionally. As long as you don't disobey a direct order from me, you're good. So calm down, and don't look so terrified all the time."

I took a few moments to let his words sink in. Although they seemed reassuring, there sure were too many loopholes in his statement.

His direct order could be anything. From letting him feed from me, to stripping for him. Anything at all.

But I still nodded, relieved to know that I didn't have to be so cautious all the time. He wouldn't punish me for mistakes. I could... maybe live with this.

I mean, it was better than the pet shop at least. Hedger was a real jerk, and that cage was very uncomfortable. Here, I at least got a blanket, and a couch to sleep on.

"Great." He offered me a small smile, finally letting go of my hand and standing up. "Now, you have to eat something, so tell me what you want. I'll get our food delivered here. And, I'm not gonna feed from you right now. So you can eat in peace."

Now that's something that made me feel a lot better.

"Thank you," I whispered, wiping my face.

Okay, maybe next time I'll try crying again.

- - - -

ALLISTER

I stared at the girl sitting on the couch, her frantic heartbeat still echoing in my ears. I barely heard what the slave said, before I simply agreed and closed the door. They mostly made good stuff for breakfast, so it wouldn't be an issue. I leaned my back against the door, watching how her hands were gripping onto my jacket.

She had already made so many creases on the fabric. I felt like I would have to throw it away once she takes it off. Or I could just let her wear it whenever she wanted.

A lot of things about my new pet were unusual. She was so afraid for her life, and yet, she was about to intervene when she saw that girl being hurt. Almost as if it was instinctive. It impressed me more than I'd care to admit, and I was starting to wonder what her true personality was.

Pets almost never showed what they were really like. Having been conditioned to follow orders and be submissive and obedient, they never got to show their true nature, their characteristics. And I had absolutely no problem with that, until now.

I wanted to know more about this one, even as half the things she did annoyed me like hell. But I held back on scolding her, or snapping at her, because I knew what her reaction would be. It would be extreme, and then she'd just be a trembling mess at all times. I didn't want to keep her terrorized like that. Not when she had to practically be around me at all times.

Anyhow, I'd eventually teach her everything she needed to know.

Like not leaving the blanket lying on the couch like that, half of it touching the floor.

Yeah, that was too unacceptable.

I was about to go and pick it up, but a knock on the door stopped me.

Xyla tensed up slightly, her gaze fixing on the door.

She seemed so shaken up all the time. My last pet wasn't like that. She was calmer, more pulled together. Probably better trained.

I almost felt bad for this one, multiple times. Which was a lot, for less than twenty four hours.

I opened the door, to find a slave standing outside. He quickly bowed his head, in either fear or respect. I didn't care which.

"Your Highness."

"What is it?" I asked.

"I was told your drain is clogged, my Prince. I came to fix it."

"I clearly said--" I began, but stopped myself. I glanced back at Xyla, who quickly looked away from me. She definitely needed a warm shower, and she couldn't take one until the drain would be fixed. The washroom in the pet room had no running water. Just a bucket. I opened the door wider, moving to the side. "Come in."

The slave walked in, keeping his head low.

Good.

I didn't need him to stare at my pet.

"That's the door," I said, pointing to the washroom. "Be quick."

"Yes, your Highness." He hurried to it, and went inside, closing the door behind him.

I ran a hand through my hair, before closing the door of the room again. "Once he's done, and we get breakfast, you can shower in there." I made my way to my bed, and sat down, staring at her.

She didn't meet my gaze, and simply nodded.

She did that a lot. It was almost like she wasn't very comfortable using her voice. As if, she was afraid of saying the wrong thing, and then getting punished for it.

It made sense for someone who had spent their life locked up in a cage, constantly afraid of being hurt for mistakes.

I didn't believe in scaring humans for no reason at all. The Superiors who did that were just insecure of their obviously higher positions.

I mean, why would you want harmless beings afraid of you? Where's the power in that?

Harmful beings, however, they needed to know their place at all times.

"Xyla," I started, putting one leg over the other as I waited for her to respond.

"Yes?"

She still didn't look at me.

"Xylaa," I dragged her name out longer, snapping my fingers twice. She glanced at me, her mouth slightly parted in shock. Or fear. I didn't really know, and I was too lazy to check. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you."

"Sorry," she muttered.

"It's okay. What's your full name?" I asked.

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if she was surprised by my question. She didn't miss another beat before answering. "Haylov. Xyla Krystal Haylov."

Xyla Krystal Haylov. Sounded like the name of a Princess. Not that of a mere pet.

"That's quite a heavy name," I joked, hoping to ease her a bit.

She still looked like she wanted to hide in a corner. I could only wonder what normally went through her mind.

She shrugged, not at all amused.

Okay, ouch.

"Tell me about yourself. Were your parents slaves? Are they alive?"

She tensed up again.

Okay, not a very good question, I see.

"They weren't slaves," she said quietly, "and I don't know."

Now that explained the fancy name. And a lot of other things as well.

"You were abducted?"

She shook her head.

"Then?"

I watched as she fidgeted with my jacket that she wore. "Sold." Her voice was even lower this time.

Woah. That must have sucked. It had to be done by family.

I pursed my lips.

"Oh," I said softly. "How old were you?"

"Fifteen."

That's young.

"And how old are you now?"

"I'm not sure. It was hard to keep count in that shop. But... give or take, I think, twenty-one."

Woah. Six years in a wretched pet shop?

It was a surprise she hadn't lost every bit of emotion she had.

"That's... a lot," I muttered, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah," she whispered, her gaze lowering to her lap. Her eyes widened slightly, as she realized how hard she was gripping onto the jacket. She quickly let go and tried to smoothen out the fabric with her fingers, but in vain.

The slave knocked on the door as if on cue, before stepping out of the washroom.

"Your Highness, the drain is fixed."

"Good. You can leave."

- - - - - -

An English Literature teacher would be here like:

The dRaiN iS sYmboLiC to tHe waLLs xYLa hAs buILt aRounD hErsElF and the DraIn fiXinG is ActuallY her lettiNg heR emOtioNs flow--

Shut up. No it isn't. It's unintentional and unironic. Stop making our lives hell. The author wasn't even thinking about this, I promise.

Next update tomorrow! Stay tuned!