Chapter 10
1034 Words
There's this restless feeling in my stomach, alerting me that I am in danger. I thought I was only dreaming.
But when I woke up and got out of bed, I was already in a different room, a room that is the epitome of bloody. It is dark and eerie around here, and my eyes are the only ones that are glowing.
When I could no longer unsee the remnants of blood splashed all over the wall, my dark past flashed before me.
I started to heave unconditionally.
"This isn't happening! How did I get here?"
I clamped my head and screamed, and I screamed till my throat dried out.
"No! No! No! This cannot be..." I dashed to the rustic metal door and banged it with my fists. Memories of torture crippled my rational thoughts as I succumbed to them.
I am out of my mind. I could not stay calm, and I began running from corner to corner. Sweats heavily coated my skin.
"This place is small-too small for my liking. What am I doing here?"
I cannot properly breathe. I am definitely having a panic attack.
My vision started swirling, and I stumbled on my steps. My face hit the cold, dirty concrete floor, and I hissed.
I gathered my knees to my chest, comforting myself and fearing that I would be subjected to tremendous pain once more.
Why am I here? How on earth have I been found? These questions repeated themselves over and over in my head.
I laid down, curled my body into a fetal position, and hugged myself, crying and heaving.
My labored breathing soon died down when I could no longer stay awake.
The peircing screech of the metal was the last thing I heard before I fell out of consciousness.
After waking up, I sensed a sudden shift within me. Something feels odd, like I have been chained by something invisible. I later pushed that feeling aside and focused on my calming myself.
I feel my days here are numbered. I do not know how long I have been out or what time of day it is; one thing is for sure. I was still in this dark cell. And this wasn't a nightmare.
My fingers scratched my arms till it bled, a traumatic response to ease myself. Hugging my knees together was not helping my condition.
All I have to do is wait until I am summoned. But waiting did not suppress my anxiety. It seems like it has been months since I got here.
The metal door creaked open, and Lycan warriors walked their way to me with confidence and pride. But for a few seconds, when their eyes landed on me, they stared for a long time; they seemed to be in disbelief.
It must have been my eyes that startled them.
I was about to protest when they grabbed my arms and dragged me to who knows where.
The torches gave a different glow in the dark cell, and as soon as I stepped out of the spiral stairs, the sunlight surprised me as I squinted them to adjust to my new surroundings.
We continued to walk through a huge, high-ceilinged hallway.
The design of this place reminded me of a castle. My gasping could not be helped, as I am in awe.
I was in a castle all along, and they imprisoned me underground.
They dragged me farther until we reached two huge golden wooden doors, which were pushed open.
The first thing I notice is the wonderful scent that bombards my nostrils-the heavenly scent of fruits.
My eyes widen when I realize what is in front of me. The structure of the dome ceiling and the gothic engravings on the walls made the place so elegant and classy.
Still, I am too awestruck to even speak. The marching sound of the warriors stopped as I settled in the center of the throne room.
I frantically looked around until my eyes landed on his. He is the owner of the scent.
The world seemed to stop as we gazed at each other with wonder and adoration. I don't know how long, but his regal presence eases me.
His strong, sharp gaze made my fast-beat heart accelerate beyond measure.
How could someone who is rumored to be ruthless and a sadistic tyrant be so, so...extremely handsome?
Thick eyebrows and long lashes. His straight, messy, raven-black hair was cut short on the sides and a few inches long at the top. Sharp, straight nose, and strong chisseled jawline.
He looked like a godly supermodel! His kingly attire could not even hide his oozing masculinity.
Am I dreaming? Is this a dream? I hope not.
Our staring contest did not last long, and I hissed when my head was pushed down to meet the shiny, cold floor.
"Kneel to the King!"
A commanding voice reminded me of my current predicament.
I struggled to get his hand off my head. He beat me to it and tied my hands tightly. The pain made me grit my teeth. I think gentleness is anonymous with these beasts.
"Kneel." He warned once more, and I did not want to be told three times.
I could not fight back; the risk of exposing my true self to them may cost me my life.
"So it is you..."
I shivered at his voice. I dare not look up. I might be trapped again in his gray eyes.
Simple eye contact promotes a challenge, although he did not seem to be bothered earlier.
"Raise your head, female."
I did not obey him; I prefer listening to the rhythm of my fast-beat heart.
"The king has spoken to you. Obey." I hissed when he pulled my hair to look up.
The same man who tied me up gritted his teeth when he said those words. I gave him a side-eye, imprinting his face on my mind.
"That's enough, William."
William... I will remember his name.
He pushed my head back and stood back. I bit my lower lip, trying to hold my tears. It turns out, I was not that mentally strong to be treated like this; I thought I was.
- Writer
