Spark

Catalyst

*****

Note from the Author:

There is explicit s*x, forced s****l acts, violence, monstrous behavior and animal aggression.

Please read with caution as some elements can be triggering.

*****

The dungeon was smelly, dank and dark. And frankly, I was sick to death of it.

And of him.

Right now, the Lord keeping me in his hold, Elijah Frost, was intent on humping me against the wall. His pale body sweating as he pumped upward into me. His narrow hips thrusting wildly in desperation and scraping my rear against jagged stone as he gripped my thighs alongside his hips with bony, clawing fingers.

My hands were shackled to the wall, as he’d ordered. Tight enough I couldn’t reach him. I was smudged with mud and stickier things from the time he’d kept me down here.

It’d taken four of his most trusted knights to bring me down here. Human ones who could resist my allure.

To an extent.

By the time we’d arrived, they’d been begging him for a chance to have at me. Clawing desperately at my clothes in an effort to get ahold of me. Ripping my riding habit loose and shredding the long tunic I’d worn beneath it.

I’d long ago learned not to wear fancy, flimsy undergarments. They were bound to soon be torn.

Because of what I am.

Thankfully, Frost was a greedy man. So, it was only he that had been rushing down here to slip into me.

The chains rattled with each movement. My back, beneath the torn tunic skid up and down the wall with each movement.

My ankles were chained too but with enough length he could lift the back of my thighs for leverage to position his legs against the wall, pinning me between his body and the stone.

He was a shorter man but built well enough with a swath of dark hair that he could certainly find a woman that wanted him.

I didn’t hate him for what he was doing.

He’s just another monster.

Monsters had an impossible time resisting me.

And Elijah Frost was a monster. His pointed ears gave him away as much as his pale skin and eyes so light they were nearly silver. He was leaned forward enough he could look down between us to watch himself entering me.

I stared boredly at a spot on the wall. Waiting for him to spend. I’d agreed I wouldn’t fight him, as long as he withdrew before attaining his climax.

He obediently did. Slipping out and slapping his member against my lower belly as the white fluid spurted up against my skin.

“Finished?” I queried.

“How can you be so cold?” He said disdainfully.

“Was I to moan and faint in pleasure?” I queried sardonically. Adding bitterly. “I’m shackled, Frost.”

“Were I to give you more freedom, chain you to my bed up in my chamber perhaps, would you be more compliant.”

“More?” I asked incredulously. “I didn’t fight you. How could I possibly be more so?”

He looked taken aback. “You could at least feign some pleasure.”

He stepped away to gather his pants from the nearby table. Stepping back into them before pulling a long tunic down over his chest.

“Why? To assist you in getting yours?” I said in annoyance. “You know well the act wasn’t one I wanted.”

“You consented!”

“As long as you withdrew.”

“I did!” He proclaimed defensively.

“It doesn’t mean I wanted you.”

He snorted. “You’re the most unpleasant woman in all of Ferus.”

“Yet you keep wandering down her to jab into me.”

“Mmm.” His gaze roved over the long length of my leg, examining their fine shape. “I must admit you feel far finer than any creature I’ve stuck it to, afore. Like your channel is made of tightly woven velvet. Designed to fit me.”

“I’ve heard that many times.” I rolled my eyes.

He walked back to grab my throat. Leaning forward until he could put his face in mine warningly.

Trying to intimidate me.

Or perhaps just to get a reaction. One he certainly wasn’t going to get from me.

My gaze flicked down. I noticed he had to stand on his toes to do so.

It was a nasty habit of mine that I found flaws in the physical appearance of nearly every man.

I was quite certain there was some deep psychological reason why, but none I cared to examine just now.

Frost was hissing in my face, spitting slightly so I closed my eyes in disgust. “You’d be very near the perfect woman, had you no tongue.”

“Then cut it out.” I suggested spitefully.

“I think I will.”

***

Once dressed, Frost smoothed back his dark hair.

Testament to his vanity.

Then stepped into the stone corridor. “John!”

I heard the lumbering steps of someone huge coming.

A large man ducked under the barred ceiling to enter the dank cell. Absent any furniture but the table.

His dark gaze slid to me. Scanning over me quickly before forcing himself to look at my face.

The fact that he was able to, told me he was either a very powerful monster or human.

“Cut out her tongue.” Frost ordered. Giving me a long look. “Shame you force my hand.”

“Who forced whom?” I said nastily. Hoping he’d leave.

He gave me another lingering look, seeming almost remorseful as his gaze scanned my body fondly. Having to tear his eyes away to leave.

“You don’t want to stay to hear my screams?” I taunted.

Hearing no answer, I was assured he was driven off. My green gaze landed heatedly on the Master of Dungeon.

“Come here, John.” I whispered. Lowering my head to give him a heated green-eyed stare. Rubbing my legs together seductively to draw his attention to their long, lean shape.

He licked his thing lips and walked to me.

“Take me off these chains, John.” I whined. “So, I might…”

I tilted my head and looked meaningfully toward his groin. Licking my lips hungrily.

His brows shot up and he quickly fumbled for the keys.

Human.

I love Skins. They were so much more pliable, less demanding than monsters.

He was quick to unchain me, and a few caresses allowed me to use a bit of tactile sway to persuade him to comply with my desires. Making his eyes hollow until there was nothing reflected in his eyes but my face and the shine of my vibrant red hair.

“Your hair…” He murmured. “It’s like fire…”

“Yes.” I responded as I walked out of the cell. It wasn’t the first time I’d been told that.

Far from.

I pulled my tunic down over me as best as I could. “It is.”

I left that dungeon. Considering where I was going to go now. I’d long ago come to terms with what I was. Now the question was getting to where I needed to go.

I am a Catalyst.

The Spark.

At least, that’s what the lore calls me.

I was a princess once. Before I got all my people killed.

Now I wander the country, trying to stay from view. Trying to find my purpose.

Trying not to attract every unholy thing I come across.

Which was something I was clearly failing at.

The problem with being a Spark was two-fold.

Monsters were drawn to me. And I’d known so many of them that I found myself unable to be intrigued by any normal, human male. I was drawn to those dangerous breeds like a moth to flame.

You’d think that with my time as a Spark, I’d have learned how to recognize each creature. But there were so many, I didn’t know where to begin.

Every male creature lusted for me. And I for them.

The trick I faced was in trying to identify the ones that merely lusted for me. And those that might try to kill me.

***

As I trudged from Frost’s Hold now, I was thankful it was a stone bridge over the moat with an open gate rather than a drawbridge as I made my way, wearing nothing but the shredded tunic. I crossed my arms over my chest to ward off the chill of the foggy afternoon. The moisture on my skin only made me colder. However, I was thankful that the heavy fog and cold had driven most of the inhabitants that might’ve been surrounding the castle, back near the heat of their fires. Thus why no one had stopped me.

Yet.

Frost would soon realize that I had escaped him, and he’d send a militia after me.

And last I knew, the Pyre Army was still on my tail.

And closing in.

I was hoping that Frost’s little kidnapping would’ve at least made them lose my trail.

Or send them back to King Eternus to tell him that Frost had me. I could only hope.

But I knew enough of the Commander to doubt that.

I heard a carriage rattling and looked up to see a young farm boy slapping rein on a couple horses. He brought the horses to a stop to openly gape at me.

I eyed him, noticing he wasn’t much bigger than me and he wore a heavy green cloak to chase away the cold.

A cloak which looked very warm.

One I want. I gave him a slow smile and lowered my head to give him a lingering look.

He stared into my eyes until his grew hollow, empty of all but my reflection.

Then I knew I had him.