CHAPTER 7
Two days, it has been two days since I have seen anyone other than the old woman who drops off my meals.
I am becoming claustrophobic; the walls seem to press closer and closer the longer they hold me here.
I learned the old woman’s name today. Her name is Marian.
So that is something, I guess. She is always on edge and never looks me in the eye.
I can tell she is too scared to, and it makes me wonder what they have done to her in the past that keeps her eyes glued to the floor.
It is nearly dinner time. I can just see out the small window enough to see the sun has gone down.
When the door opens, it isn’t Marian. Matitus walks in with my dinner, placing it on the table. He growls angrily when he sees I haven’t touched my food once again. I ignore his presence.
“Why aren’t you eating?” he bellows. His anger doesn’t bother me; I have become quite content with the idea of death. At least I would be out of this world, maybe wake up to a different life other than this hellhole I’m currently residing in.
“Answer me,” he says while stomping over and ripping me off the bed by my elbow and dragging me toward the table in the room’s corner.
He drops me in the seat, and I push the plate away.
I am starving, but I know the pain will go away, know that after a few more days, I will be too weak to even feel hunger.
I have gone longer without eating. Nine days, to be exact.
Hunger isn’t something I am unfamiliar with.
Matitus slides the plate back in front of me. “Please, Elora, eat. Don’t make me have to bring Silas in here,” he says, picking up the fork with a piece of potato on it and pressing it against my lips. Pressing my lips together, I turn my face away and he growls.
“You leave me no choice. Why do you have to be so difficult?”
“Wrong question, why do you think you get to decide my life? I hate you. Just let me leave or fucking kill me,” I spit at him.
“Is that your plan? To starve to death? Silas won’t allow that. Either eat or I will bring him in here and you don’t want that,” he says kneeling beside me and dragging the plate back in front of me. “Eat.”
“No,” I tell him firmly. He pinches the bridge of his nose and his brows furrow.
He stands back up and leaves. Grabbing the plate, I toss it in the fireplace, then lay back on the bed.
A few minutes later, the door is thrown open with so much force, the wood splinters off as it hits the stone wall.
Silas, in all his raging glory, stalks in, Matitus by his side.
He looks toward the table and growls, reaching me and ripping me off the bed again, this time with so much force, I fly into the table and bite my lip hard enough that I feel blood dribbling down my chin.
Matitus’s eyes widen and I see fear crossing his features.
It makes me wonder what else he expected from his monster of a mate.
Matitus grabs his arm, and Silas’s breathing slows slightly, yet his eyes blaze as he glares at me.
“You grab her, I might just fucking kill her, and I don’t want to give her what she wants,” he growls to Matitus. I crawl onto my hands and knees and wipe the back of my hand across my mouth. Matitus grabs me and tosses me over his shoulder caveman style and follows Silas.
“Put me down!” I screech. He ignores me. I smack into his back and Matitus growls, slapping my ass so hard I am quite sure his handprint is now going to be permanently etched into my skin. I hiss at the pain shooting through my rear briefly when I am dumped into a chair.
My head spins from being upside down. It eventually settles, and I find myself in the dining room. Dragus is sitting at the table like this scenario is normal and nothing is out of place. Abigail comes out and places a plate in front of me. I push it away and Silas hits the table with his fist.
“Eat Elora,” he warns, and I shake my head. Abigail nudges me with her elbow trying to warn me to do as they say but I avert my eyes from hers. Silas stalks over and places a knife in my hand and the fork in the other. The quickly slides the plate back in front of me.
“Eat for god’s sake.”
“No!” I scream, imagining I could stab him.
My thoughts turn dark wanting to hurt him when I gasp seeing I’ve stabbed the knife into his hand.
I am even shocked I actually did it. I imagined it, I didn’t think I would actually do it.
I hear Dragus choke on his drink, coughing and spluttering, and I instantly let the knife go, my hands trembling at what I just did.
Silas goes silent and I fear his silence more than his anger. The room is so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. He pulls the knife out of his hand without even flinching, the wound closing in front of my eyes.
I expect him to kill me after that, only he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches over and grabs Abigail and slams her onto the table beside me. He presses the knife to her neck.
“You do as you’re told, or her death will be on your hands,” he says, pressing the knife blade into her skin.
“No, please!” I scream, trying to pull his hand away from her throat. Tears spring in Abigail’s eyes and I am flooded with guilt at seeing her like this. My actions caused this. I wanted him to kill me, I didn’t think about the repercussions it would have on others when he didn’t get his way.
“Please Elora,” she begs.
“Will you behave, or do I have to kill her?” Silas asks, his eyes scrutinizing the panic on my face at seeing her so defenseless and at his mercy.
“You are a monster,” I whisper.
“That’s not an answer,” he replies through gritted teeth, pressing the blade against her throat harder.
“Yes, I will do what you want,” I tell him.
He removes the knife, and I let out a breath.
Abigail gets up, tears rolling down her cheeks as she runs from the room.
Silas then pulls me up, sitting in my seat and pulling me on his lap.
I try to get up, he just wraps his arm around my waist, holding me in place.
He slides the plate back in front of me.
“Eat,” he says, passing me the fork. I glance at Matitus and Dragus; they are watching me, expressionless.
I spear a piece of broccoli, popping it into my mouth and chewing slowly.
Silas’s grip loosens and Dragus hands him his plate.
Silas eats while watching me. He taps my plate now and then, telling me to eat faster.
We eat in silence. When we finish, Marian walks in and removes the plates and cleans the table.
I try to remove myself from Silas’s lap, and he growls, making me freeze.
“Your birthday is tomorrow, is it not?” Silas asks. I nod.
“You will stay with us tonight, don’t even argue it wasn’t a choice.”
“And if I don’t manifest?” I ask.
“Then we keep looking,” he answers.
“What will happen with me, then?” I ask hopeful, wanting to be free of them.
“You will remain here with us, where you belong.”
“I don’t belong with anyone.”
“Wrong. Dragons can only procreate with their mates. Even if your magic doesn’t manifest, you will remain here till we break the curse. So get used to the idea, Elora. You won’t be leaving us,” Silas says.
I feel tears brim and threaten to spill over.
“Save your tears, they won’t help you here,” Silas says.
Looking toward Dragus, he averts his gaze. I swallow the lump forming in my throat and close my eyes, willing myself to not break.
“Can I go now?” I ask. Silas removes his hand from my waist.
“You can go. Leave the castle and I will kill Abigail,” he says. I nod, quickly running from the room to go in search of Abigail.
Running to the kitchen, I find only the cooks and Marian.
“Where is Abigail?” I ask.
One cook peers up. “Follow the hall third door on the left,” a man says. He goes back to cutting up meat.
I follow his directions and stop out the front of a heavy door.
There are whispers behind the door, and it sounds like she is talking to a boy, pushing it open.
I gasp at what I find. Abigail standing holding the boy’s hand.
He is clearly in pain. That’s not what shocks me, though.
It is that her hands are glowing green. She spins around, her hand instantly stops glowing.
The boy pulls his hand from her grasp, and I recognize him. It’s Peter and I can tell he has burns on his flesh. I step forward and Abigail quickly grabs his hand again when she sees it is just me and I watch his burns heal until they are just a faint red mark.
Peter doesn’t remove his eyes from me, and I can tell he is scared of me telling on Abigail.
“Now go,” she whispers to Peter, and he takes off out the door. I stare gob smacked at what I just witnessed; the only person I had ever seen do magic was my grandmother.
“You can’t tell them,” she says with a worried look on her face.
“You’re a Fae?” I question, shocked. Abigail shakes her head.
“Please, if they find out they will kill me and probably Peter, too,” she begs.
“You have magic,” I state, excited to have found another Fae.
“I’m not a Fae” she whispers, confusing me.
Abigail walks toward the door, closing it tightly and making sure it is locked. “I am a Witch,” she breathes.
My heart skips a beat at her words. A Witch.
I didn’t think it was possible to find a Witch.
The Dragon Kings wiped them all out, blaming them along with the Fae for the war.
They literally dragged them from their homes.
Women, children, some weren’t even Witches.
They didn’t even care. In their eyes, anyone who caused doubt was killed—murdered just for being near them or speaking to them.
The lot of them were turned to ash by the Dragon Lords.
“Please Elora, if they find out they will kill my daughter.”
“I won’t tell them, Abigail, your secret is safe with me.” Although, if they ask, it is going to be painful to refuse. I doubt they will though, as long as they notice nothing off about her.
I didn’t; I thought she was human and it never once crossed my mind she was anything else.