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“You’re right,” she tells me, throwing her clothes back on. “I should never have prodded into your life the way I was doing.”

“Well, I’m glad you see things my way-”

“That’s why I’m ending this thing that we have between us. It’s not going in the direction I wanted it to. See yourself out.”

Spinning violently, she scowls and walks away, leaving me alone in her bed. Although I’m caught off guard, I quickly brush it off, thinking it’s likely for the best. I lay my head down on the pillow, thinking what is next in this world for me to conquer.

THE END.

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PREVIEW OF MATED TO THE DARK ELF

The Worlds of Protheka is a vast and growing world. Check out the standalone series starter, Mated to the Dark Elf

Mated to the Dark Elf

By Celeste King

Available on Amazon here!

32

AMELIE

It feels like my birthday.

It’s not that I’m excellent at keeping track of the days, from the window of this little room. Hardly a room at all, I have to admit. No, it’s a feeling I have in the pit of my stomach, that’s growing more sour with every passing day. The tension of my keepers, getting impatient as I come of age. I must be twenty, by now, though the seasons have drifted by like the clouds above. Meaningless.

I lean against the narrow frame of the window, watching the street below. It’s my only entertainment here. The lone book they gave me weathered and worn from too many read throughs. I already know it by heart. They don’t think humans need much to survive. This place is little more than a cell: a toilet, a bed, a sink… Enough to keep me alive, and little else.

It’s not unknown what the dark elves do here, at Club L’amouer. I’ve heard the screams for years, of pleasure and pain. I was brought here as a child, under the impression that it was safe compared to the rest of the empire.

But that is not the case.

They refuse to tell me why I haven’t yet been thrown into the pit with my friends, to be played with by their patrons until I expire. I’ve heard stories from Honey and have seen the marks. I’ve waited in this room for years, biding my time until they decide to drag me out and submit me to their wicked whims.

Every day, I have to wonder,is this it?

There is a strict order in their world. The upper caste of dark elves that rule over everyone else, and their appointed talents—from artists to warriors and minor nobles. The lower caste, merchants and laborers and even criminals have a place in their society. Humans and the other species don’t even make the rank, existing beneath their feet, entirely at the mercy of their dark magic. We subsist as little more than pets for their amusement.

I am worth only what my master can sell me for.

Swift footsteps sweep past my door, making me cringe. It is not often the dark elves come down this hall, but when they do, it is smart to be afraid. Hopefully, they pass by without a word. I would rather miss a meal than come face to face with a Zagfer—dark elf servants with a heavy chip on their shoulders.

They do the club master’s bidding without hesitation, but there’s a gleam in their dark eyes as if, without their shackles, they’re capable of greater evil than even their master can imagine. I shudder at the very thought of them.

Another set of footsteps closes in, and I brace myself, listening for their passing. But instead, they stop at my door. Again, I have to ask myself,is this it?when a heavy knock jars me from my focus.

“Amelie,” comes a deep and grating voice.

I say nothing.

A key scrapes the lock, and the knob turns. It opens to one ofthem, just as I feared. He says nothing as he takes me in, his hard eyes roving over my threadbare clothes concealed by the washed out robe I use to cover myself. I tuck it tighter around my chest as if to hide my frame from him, but it does nothing to deter his hungry gaze.

“What do you want?”

His grin broadens, his massive frame barely fitting in the room as he enters and reaches for me. I’m too frightened to pull away when he grabs me by the arm, jostling me and forcing me to my feet. Even as he drags me out of the room, I try to secure the robe that’s slipped around my shoulders.

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