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It’s not just his size alone.
He’s staring at me with an intense gaze that leaves me speechless. I feel as though I need to say something, since he did save me from the gilak. A thank you, at least. But the words die in my throat, and I can’t get past the way his red eyes simmer.
He doesn’t wait for me to find the words. Instead, he grabs me by the arm and leads me out of the arena. Now that I’m not blistering under his scrutiny, my brain slowly begins to revive.
As it does, my anxiety starts to swell. My nerves have been frayed the whole time, but it’s growing. I barely escaped with my life.
I’m glad he saved me from that fate, of course. But I’m also not sure exactly what his plans for me are. He called me his prize, which is no more than I could have hoped for under the Demon King’s watch. All I can do is hope that I haven’t gained a crueler master than he.
He saved me from the Gilak, but for what? What does he want with me, and can I take it? If he’s anything like the King, I can only assume that he’s planned a far worse fate for me. Something slower and more horrible than being skewered on the Gilak’s massive cock. And I shudder to think about what could be worse than that.
As we walk away from the arena, the noise and cheering begin to fade. Soon, we’re mostly alone. There are a few passersby that pop into sight now and then, but it’s far more private than being on the arena main stage.
In the quiet, we can finally have a real conversation. I try to bite my tongue at first, not wanting to upset him. I’m wary of him, and I don’t want to make my situation worse by talking out of turn.
But he’s not saying anything to give me a clue about his intentions. Eventually, I can’t help it. “Thank you,” I blurt out. “For saving my life.”
I expect him to either explain why he helped me or inform me that he’s not saving me at all. He does neither. The silence only agitates me more.
“Do you fight a lot?” I try again. “You were incredible back there.”
We walk on, and the pervasive silence is nerve wracking. For me, that is. I don’t think he’s uncomfortable in the least. He doesn’t seem upset or angry that I’m talking. He doesn’t demand that I be quiet. He just doesn’t acknowledge that I’m saying anything, either.
“That creature was massive, but you made that fight look easy.”
Another heavy silence.
“You’re not-” I stumble after, trying to keep up with his long legs. “You're not going to take me back to the barracks, are you?”
I don’t get the reassurance that I desire. At this point I’m not really expecting to, since he hasn’t answered me yet. His quiet doesn’t convince me that I’m about to die. His silence doesn’t convince me that I’m not, either.
With that, I give up. There’s no point in asking questions that get no response anyway. I’m just working myself into a quiet fit, and he’s not even paying attention.
I stare at the ground, hiding behind my dirty hair. Maybe it’s best if I don’t see where we’re going. I stop looking around, no longer wanting to pay attention to my surroundings, and just focus on not tripping.
I still don’t know what lies ahead of me.
I try not to think about it, resigning myself to whatever my fate is meant to be. He’s not going to share, so what’s the point of worrying over it? But it’s easier said than done. Even as I follow him meekly to our unknown destination, my stomach is tightening into knots as I worry about what waits there.
We finally arrive at a sprawling home. It’s dark and imposing, made from towering onyx. The lustrous black surface gleams from the outside, and I’m a little breathless at the sight of it.
It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen, somehow both impressive and frightening. It seems impossibly fitting that this is a demon residence. The appearance is too perfectly appropriate to be anything else.
He leads me up several smooth black stairs to the front door. Waiting for him are several dark elf slaves. They all wear thick metal collars that glow slightly, making it clear they’ve been enchanted with magic.
They peer at me, their expressions a mixture of thinly concealed disdain and curiosity. I know that dark elves look down on humans. Though, whether they like me or not, I can understand why they’re intrigued by their master bringing home a strange human.
He pushes me into a female elf’s arms. She grabs me roughly by the shoulders, taking command of me. I swallow hard, suddenly aware of a noticeable change in his treatment compared to hers. He may not have been tender, but at least he didn’t feel as cold as her.
“Get her cleaned up and have her waiting for me when I return,” he commands.
Just like that, he is gone before I can even protest. Not that I would, and not that my protests would do any good. She handles me forcefully, practically dragging me inside as though I’m a disobedient pet on a leash. I suddenly miss his silence, even as I remind myself that I’m being ridiculous.
Just because I liked him more than this elf of his does not make him my friend. Just because he saved me in the arena does not make him my ally. I don’t know what he wants with me yet, but I’m sure it isn’t good. I need to remember that I can’t trust him, even if he hasn’t revealed his evil plans yet.
After all, I got myself into this mess in the first place by trusting the Demon King. I was too quick to assume that everyone was my friend, that they meant well. If they showed even a hint of being on my side, I assumed I could put my faith in them.
This is, I know now, a deadly mistake.
