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I try to sit up in bed, but a pain from my ankle stops me in my attempt. I throw back the covers and stare in horror at the thin silver chain that binds me to the corner of the bed.
So, whatever else I am, I am still someone's prisoner.
I am naked beneath the sheets. My mind goes back to the vicious elves ripping my clothes from my body. The pain of their nasty thin fingers pinning me down.
I can see the evidence in black welts around my wrists and thighs. How did I escape their further brutality? I know they were toying with me as I fled, biding their time until I was exhausted before they gathered around for the feast.
Then it comes to me. The monster! He was hunting them. I can see him now, holding the struggling, screaming elf in his strong hands.
I shudder at the memory. Vividly, I can see the ease with which he cast the elf aside as if he were no more than a rag doll thrown away by a petulant child.
I look at my surroundings. This is not the house of a filthy monster. A monster like that would skulk in a cave somewhere, spurned and rejected. This house feels like someone’s home.
My entire body is covered in scratches and bruises. But I am clean. Whoever put me in this bed cleaned me and tended my injuries first. The realization sends a shock of fear rising up through me. Whose house is this?
My fingers scrabble ineffectually at the chain around my ankle. I have to get out of here now! But the chain holds fast, and the bedpost is a thick solid piece of wood. There is no chance of escape.
Suddenly, the door opens. I grab the covers and pull them up to my chest.
The terrifying creature from my memories stands at the foot of the bed. He does not approach or attempt to touch me. He simply stands and stares. His eyes are bright as he looks me over.
I stare back, taking in the knots of skin and sinew that adorn his body. He’s monstrous, but I can’t help seeing him as my protector at least briefly, and it quells some of the agitation in my stomach. Or, if he is not my protector, at least we have the same enemies. It feels like something, a sort of common ground that is better than nothing.
“You are mine,” he tells me, his voice a deep rumble that I can feel in my chest. The sound of it sends goosebumps down my body.
I am surprised that I can understand him and even more so at his words. Instinctively, I pull at the chain that binds me.
He laughs at my reaction. “You cannot escape,” he tells me. “The chain has been spelled. You will never break it. Only I have the power to set you free. You will do nothing without my permission.”
Fury rises up in my chest. After everything I have been through to try to escape captivity! How dare this creature bind me to him?
I scream my rage at him, pulling desperately at the tether that secures me.
“Fuck you!” I hurl. “I will never do as you bid me!”
The chain bites deep into my ankle, and the covers fall to the floor, exposing my naked body. But I do not care. I am desperate to get away.
For a moment, he looks shocked. He even takes a step back. Then he turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.
Ignoring the pain, I pull even more frantically at my bindings. “No!” I howl at the world. “No, no, no, no. This cannot be happening! I will not be a slave!”
A trickle of blood drips from my ankle as I scrape ineffectually at the spelled silver chain. The scarlet against my pale skin scares me, and I throw myself back on the bed and sob.
I don’t know how long I cry, but eventually, I must have fallen asleep because I dream.
Dark elves surround me, they are all clamoring to touch me and I am shrinking from their grasp. I feel myself getting smaller and smaller, thinner and thinner until I am no more than a wisp of smoke.
I am floating above the scene. I can see the elves touching my body, running their disgusting sharp fingers over me, pinching me, and pulling me. I can feel none of it. I laugh at their attempts to grab me. “That is not me, you fools,” I tell them with contempt. “That is just my body, I am free. Free of your filthy lusts. You cannot have me!”
The sound of the door creaking open wakes me with a start.
“Shit,” I say, making a grab for the blankets that no longer cover me. Looking around, I see them discarded on the floor where they fell earlier in my futile attempt to escape.
“I brought food,” he tells me, his deep voice rumbling like an avalanche. How can this hideous creature have such a beautiful voice?
“I’m not hungry,” I tell him sullenly, even though my stomach is telling me otherwise.
“You will eat.” His words are stated as a fact, as if he is telling me that the sky is blue.
