Sixteen
Alara
This… this can’t be happening.
All my thoughts of being brave are quickly squashed like a bug under their feet. At seeing him—my monster.
My nightmare.
How is this possible? How is he here? With the king of all people.
They smile down at me, like I’m what they’ve been waiting to torment and my head spins, scared and confused.
Halen said he’s been looking for an elf, but if he knows Emerish, why wasn’t I given to him? Or one of the others in the underground… unless he had already given him an elf and Halen lied?
But no, that doesn’t sit right…
I cry out as the scalpel stabs into my arm, and I stare down at it in horror where it sticks out of my skin.
Blood trickles down, painting my skin in a way that looks like tiny ribbons, reminding me of the ones Rohan has on his arms.
“She cries well,” Halen mutters.
I’m shaking, stuttering gasps coming from me when he leaves the scalpel where it is.
“How long are you keeping her down here?” Emerish asks, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead.
I look away from him, my mouth already pooling with saliva as he runs his fingers through my hair.
“Until she learns her place,” Halen says. “I must say, I’ll enjoy her being put there, from my hand or yours.”
“Yes, you do enjoy doing so. Remember the servant boy who wouldn’t take it?”
Halen laughs. “I do. He probably still has welts on his ass.”
They all laugh, and talk more about others as tears roll down my face.
Be… brave…
I have to be brave.
“Has the elf said anything of her time before?” Emerish asks, his tone curious but careful.
“She said—”
The door opens, and Declan walks in.
“My king, there is an urgent matter to attend to. They say they won’t continue to make their way here unless you respond personally.”
Halen looks at Declan, a scowl on his face. “Fucking elves,” he mutters, turning to Emerish. “Do you have any events to attend tonight, Emerish?”
“None,” Emerish clears his throat, letting go of my hair. “All bets have been placed, and I won’t take any more until game day now.”
“Want to keep the elf company?”
I suck in a breath, shaking my head.
“No, no, no, no, no,” I whisper so quietly, I’m not sure they even hear me.
“You would give me such a prize?”
“You have exceeded my expectations lately in your collections in the Enclave, and around my city. You deserve such a prize.” Halen hums, looking me over.
“She is to learn a lesson, and I know you can help her learn it while I’m preparing for an arrival.
Just don’t kill her. I’ll be back in the morning. ”
No, don’t leave me with him.
Emerish dips his head. “You favor me, my king.”
Please.
“Ha,” he laughs, slapping him on the shoulder. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before, and I wouldn’t be a graceful king if I didn’t reward hard work.”
“I’ll make sure she’s thoroughly warmed for you.”
No!
King Halen turns to me. “You should have done as you were told, elf… I can’t wait to see the mess that has been made of you when I return. But don’t be too compliant now, it won’t save you.” His eyes turn hard. “You had your chance for that, and you refused.”
And with that, he leaves with Declan, his guards going with him. The door closes with a resounding thud.
Terror slithers under my skin and wraps itself around my ribcage. My whole body quivers, my head shaking, breath coming out in uneven bursts.
Don’t come closer, don’t come closer.
Emerish moves a step, and I flinch as he takes the seat before me, not saying a word.
His eyes are his tell though.
The anger in them sears me, causing my body to stiffen.
“I never thought I would see you again,” he says softly, deceptively.
Because he thought I was dead.
“And I’m even more surprised that you’re under the king’s mercy.”
He sits back, a picture of relaxation but I know better.
His fingers twitch, itching to hurt me. His leg bounces, trying to hold himself back for whatever reason, but it won’t be long now.
We both know it.
Silence wraps around us like thorns, and I brace myself.
“Now, slave, it’s time you tell me what the fuck you are doing with a barbarian clan and not dead down in The Pit that I sent you to!”
The slap comes, and he hits me so hard that my teeth hurt.
I whimper when he yanks my head back, eyes going to my neck and he grabs it, squeezing hard as I gasp for breath. Choking.
“What have you told him?” he growls, shaking me. His nails pierce my skin, I can feel them sink in. “Tell me!”
I cry out when he hits me again, my head swinging to the side.
“There I was, in the Enclave, doing my job as the king’s collector, as a lord, and imagine my surprise when I saw you in the royal section.”
He grabs my chin, shaking me.
“You will tell me what you told him. Now! Or I’ll make this much worse for you.”
“I… I…” I can’t get my words out, my throat already hurting, but it’s fear that’s trapped my voice, unable to get it out.
Please leave me alone, please leave me alone.
He hits me again, and again before he goes over to the table and grabs something from there.
Blood trickles from my nose, and my lip stings.
I look down at the scalpel still protruding out of my skin.
I think I’m going to die.
No.
No.
I can’t.
I need to help the clan, help Rohan.
“You think that barbarian can take that collar off your neck and claim you as his own? That you would be, what?” He laughs. “Free?”
He comes over, a small knife in his hand and dread pools in my stomach.
I can be strong.
Brave.
I can.
I can. I can. I can.
I try to stay as still as possible, looking straight ahead as a knife comes up to my throat, traveling up the side before it rests at the tip of my ear.
He slices at it without warning, and I hiss at the pain, flinching.
“You think you have become something else now, don’t you?” he snarls. “Oh how you disobey me now. Well, not to worry, we will get you back to how you were.”
I’m not a slave, I want to say. I want to scream it.
I used to be one, I used to be called that, but then… Rohan.
He gave me my freedom.
Removed my collar.
Gave me choices.
He’s the reason you’re in this room, Alara.
No!
He didn’t, not really. The king did for his twisted reasons of wanting an elf. To help him get more Nighturn from that poor dragon.
I’m not a slave, I’m Alara.
“Halen has been looking for an elf for years, needing one for his dragons below. So what have you told him?”
I shake my head.
“Tell me! Don’t make me angrier than I already am.”
I shiver, remembering the times he lost it in a fit of rage. How it would take days for me to recover.
But I always did.
And he loved that.
It just meant he could do it all over again.
Emerish smiles.
“Think wisely, slave, I can keep you alive a lot longer than Halen ever could.”
I know he can. He’s hurt me and kept me alive many times over. Gotten me so close to death while having enough control to pull back, let me heal so he can start all over again.
“We’re going to have some fun, you and I.”
Oh Gods. Elvanan. Morana, whoever, please don’t leave me in here with him.
Please, please, please.
Someone come and get me, get him away from me.
“It’ll be just like old times.” I’m going to be sick. “But before we begin, tell me, how did you end up with clan Blackscale when I paid for you to be thrown in The Pit?”
I say nothing, I couldn’t make my lips move even if I wanted to. They’re frozen with fear, my throat tightening with every passing moment.
His brows furrow. “Tell me what you’ve told Halen.”
He slices at my ear again, and I cry out.
“Have you told him about the underground?”
I breathe through the pain when he slices down my arm, and my hand tenses, more tears roll down my face.
“Have you lost your tongue? Tell me, have you said anything to the king about me and the underground? What’s been happening down there?”
Wait…
My head spins as I try to think, I try to make sense of everything.
It’s the law that if you are seen with an elf you would be killed, that’s why he paid someone to get rid of me in The Pit instead of doing it himself. And it proves further truth to what I’m thinking now.
With what he’s asking… demanding I tell him what I’ve told the king, that means… Halen doesn’t know.
The king has been wanting an elf for years and Emerish has had some all that time. Right under his nose.
I look up at him.
Because if he doesn’t know, that means he… he betrayed the king.
His eyes darken, like he knows what I’m thinking.
A smack to my face has it snapping to the side as he growls down at me.
“It’s been a while since we’ve done this, hasn’t it?”
I whimper.
“What a treat I’ve been given.” He breathes deeply though his nose and yanks my head back painfully. “Very well. Let me remind you of who your Master is.”
I don’t know how long it’s been, all I know is that the questioning won’t stop and he won’t stop.
Does Halen know of the underground.
Have I told him about others down there.
Told him that I know him.
I’m not in the chair anymore. No. I’m hanging from the hook in the ceiling I saw when I first came in, the rope cutting into my wrists. It was easy for him to hang me from there, the feel of him touching me making me freeze up while he moved me like he wanted.
I just wanted him to stop touching me.
I whimper when he kicks my leg, and I swing to the side. The rope pulls at my wrists, cutting into me.
“The king wants you alive for his bidding. I just have to keep you alive, and I’m very good at that, aren’t I?”
I stand on my tiptoes, shoulders screaming.
Emerish then takes the cane to my back. The tunic tears, and fire spreads across me, the breath stolen from my lungs.
And I still refuse to answer him.
“You are my slave! Obey and answer me!”
Crack.
I’m Alara.
“A useless elf.”
I bite my lip, making it bleed as he hits me again.
Smack.
“You won’t tell him about the underground. About my involvement, any of it!”
Whack.
Whack.
Whack.
“Answer me, slave!”
I’m Alara.
“Tell me.” He stands in front of me now, his chest heaving, eyes wild with malice and something else I don’t like. “Did he fuck you?”
I scream as he grabs me between my legs, and I thrash, pain wracking through me. I kick at him even though it hurts.
“Did you give up your virginity to that barbarian, elf?”
I’m.
Alara.
He lets go of me, scoffing.
“I didn’t give you away in the underground because no one wanted you like that. How could they? Look at you. But that barbarian did, didn’t he?” He laughs in disgust. “He would sink low like that.”
He moves the chair and sits in front of me, cane still in hand.
“Answer me. Does the Dragonbond know about me?”
He smacks my legs.
“Does he know of the underground?”
He hits my feet next, and I try to move away from it, swinging a little when I lose my footing, my skin splitting open.
But I still don’t utter a word to him.
I don’t tell him.
He throws the cane down and stands, eyes blazing with fury.
My dazed eyes meet his, blood trickling down my nose.
“You will tell me, slave.” He grips my cheeks so hard I cry out, struggling in his grip but his nails dig in harder. “You will tell me or face the consequences. You will tell me what the king knows. What the barbarian knows!”
I look into his hate-filled eyes. The eyes that for all my life made me feel like I wasn’t someone. Like I wasn’t a person.
Just someone who was there for chores. Someone to take his anger out on. Someone who he let others take their anger out on me for coin. Who would sometimes let others use my mouth so I could have food or a drink.
But Rohan.
That barbarian.
He fed me, and for the first time, my belly was full.
He gave me warm furs to sleep in, and for the first time, I was warm down to my bones.
He gave me clothes to shield me.
Let me have a drink until I was thirsty no more.
He gave me space when I was upset.
Said sorry for ever hurting me.
And he… he gave me soap, actual soap that I could wash myself with, and he braided my hair like it was something precious to him.
And most of all… he treats me like I’m important to him. He’s gentle, caring, protective, and possessive and he wants me to live!
Just one thing, remember?
So no.
No matter how much it hurts, no matter how many times Emerish will rip me apart, I will not tell him that Rohan knows about him.
About the underground.
Who’s in there.
What he did there.
I can do this, for me, and for him.
Because I am Alara, and I will not betray the only man to ever show me kindness and put him in danger for knowing what this monster did to me.
And with that thought, I do something I’ve never done.
Hadn’t dared to do with him.
I let my resolve strengthen, I let the ball of anger in my stomach expand, and then, I spit in his face.
And for a single moment, the air stills.
The room expands with tension.
And then… a fist lands on my face.
Again, and again, and again.
“It seems I have to re-train you, slave,” he breathes, straightening his shirt. “I see with my collar removed you’ve gotten bold. It’s time to remember your place.”
My place is with mountains at my back, a cave full of dragons, a clan full of people, and a fur bed with my Dragonbond within it, holding me close.
I hold on to these thoughts as the room spins, and nausea crawls up my throat. My left eye is already swelling and when he hits me again, it closes completely.
“You will tell me, do you understand?” he hisses in my face, pulling at my hair. “Tell me, does he know, slave?”
I’m Alara.
“Urgh!” He pushes my face away from him and my head falls forward, feeling too heavy to lift it.
With my good eye, I see his blurry figure moving over to the table, and my knees weaken.
“You will remember who you are and obey me. You are a slave, nothing fucking more. You are at the bottom of the food chain and you will keep quiet about your time with me before The Pit, and in the meantime, you will tell me all you know about clan Blackscale and their weaknesses. Especially their leader.” He turns, a hot rod in his hand and I whimper as he walks toward me.
“And you will do so by remembering you are my slave.”
He comes closer.
My name is Alara.
The rod gets larger, glowing a fiery orange at the end.
My name is Alara.
I feel heat upon my skin before it’s even touched it, and I try to get away.
My…
Emerish smirks.
Name…
A sizzle comes next.
Is…
He pushes it against me.
I scream.