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He continues down the staircase, stopping right in front of me. His eyes rake over me, and I know that I should be terrified.
But all I can think is that now, with him here, I can feel the warmth that radiates from the torch. It takes the chill out of the air. I can feel my tight muscles relax, reflexively becoming more comfortable.
It feels as though it could be a sign from the Mother herself. I asked her to show me the way. In walks a demon with a torch that makes him the most visible part of the room. The only thing I can see clearly is him.
I should be terrified, but the thought cheers me. I like the idea of having clear instructions, of not having to puzzle this out any further. Maybe we really did come here and go through all this horror to save the demon race from extinction.
I can’t imagine why, as they seem to be utterly horrid creatures. But I’m not here to question the Mother, am I?
He smiles at me, his white teeth glowing against his dark, ashen skin. Even in the dark, his purple eyes startle me with their strange glow, and I find myself captivated as I stare at them.
“Good,” he declares. “You’re awake.”
94
VOLIKAN
A smile pulls at the corners of my dark gray lips. I’m not able to hold it back. I wanted to take the woman in the carriage on the way back, but she’d passed out. Now is the hour of my reward.
I hold the torch up to take her long, flowing curves in. The Blackwell woman is of good stock. Honey-brown hair and hazel eyes as stern as steel. She’ll make good spawn, and I have high hopes for her to produce many heirs for me. I’ve earned it.
Moving closer to her, she flinches against the wall. Her legs cover her honeypot, and one arm covers one of her breasts, but almost by accident, as if she’s simply laying on the floor, back to the wall. She’s playing timid, possibly hoping to soften me to her womanly charms. Good. Her screams will be all the sweeter when she realizes that she will have no such soft treatment from me. I do favor the ones who think they’ll be given preferential treatment as long as they’re submissive. Everyone is submissive eventually, Anastasia.
As I slowly walk closer, showing off my hard, scarred body, I admire her supple shape. I enjoyed her soft, pleasurable mounds when I removed her dress before placing her in here. It delighted me to know that she would be mine. I could have taken her then, in the carriage, in any of the rooms I passed while bringing her down here, or right here in this dark dingy cell, but I didn’t want to. There’s no fun in playing with a limp doll. I want to see the look in her eyes when I slide into her, claiming her body as my plaything, as my breeding vessel. Breaking her shall be fun.
I move to stand directly above her, holding the torch over my horns to throw a dramatic fix of shadows across my hard features. Deep scars appear deeper, dense muscle shows through my ashen skin with a harsher cut. I pour power into my purple eyes so even while cast in the darkest shadows, they glow. Three… Two… One…
Nothing.
Nothing? Wh—Why isn’t she screaming? These tricks always work on the humans. She’s likely never seen anything so horrifying in all her life, but she just stays huddled on the floor? No, she’s trying to play to her submissive nature. Yes, that’s it. She wants to endear herself to me. That makes sense. With such large, soft eyes — and soft body — it only stands to reason that she leans into the hopes of my being merciful. While I hold no mercy in my heart, I can’t actually hurt her. The king wants her alive to breed, as do I. A little pain won’t…hurt. Poor choice of words, but I know what I’m doing.
I raise my boot over her head and snarl in disgust, pretending that I’m going to step on her, but she continues to gaze up at me, almost like a scolded child. There’s a fear in her eyes, taunting me, telling me it’s in there, but it’s not dread, it’s not hysterical nor deep seeded, it’s simply the fear of uncertainty.
I put my foot down and crouch, tossing the torch off to the side. I grab my long, black braid over my shoulder and stroke it with both hands, squeezing it, showing what my hands will do to her if she doesn’t give me what I want. I study her for a moment, lowering my head close, trapping her in with my tall horns. The four points branch out and scrape against the stone wall above her. Being hard as onyx, they cut into the stone, showering her with grit and dust. How is she not screaming? How is she still only looking at me as if she’s worried about what punishment will befall her. Does she have no regard for her life?
If that’s the case, I’ll have to show her there are worse things than death. Delicately though.
My hand lashes out, gripping her throat. I stand to my full height and slam her against the wall, my knuckles taking more of the impact than she does. She grunts in pain as her feet dangle several feet off the ground. I’m careful not to choke her exactly, but I apply pressure to make her squirm in my steel grip.
The squirming is good, but it’s still not screaming. What is wrong with her? Is she addled? I need her to scream to fuel my berserker blood, to feel it’s ecstasy course through me.
“Scream little dove. Scream or be impaled by my horns!” I smash my head against the wall above her, shaking the stone wall.
She flinches, but nothing more.
“Not scared?” I lick her face, the taste shockingly delicious. I’m tempted to do it again but it would ruin my momentum. “Your screams will nourish me.” I punch the wall next to her head, crunching the stone, but earning me nothing more than a wince.
“Ah! You know I wouldn’t hit your head, too fast, too easy of a kill. Smart. But what about your soft little belly.” I press three fingers into her stomach, while lowering my head to hers, gouging the wall with my horns.
She grimaces, but still denies me the screams I’m looking for.
“Perhaps I should wear your guts on my horns. They should make fine adornments, no?”
She bites her bottom lip, still struggling with the hand at her throat. “L— Let go.”
“Let go?” I roar, pressing my forehead against hers. “You think you can give me an order? That you can tell me what to do? You belong to me, woman!”
I pull her from the wall. Even with all my shouting, she still hasn’t shed a tear. “Fine! I’ll let go.”
