Chapter 18
Eighteen
Thorin- 16 years old
E yes locked onto the ceiling, my vision jiggles with every thrust.
Dissociation is my best friend. Traveling into the subconscious mind space is a sanctuary I will never take for granted. Here I can’t feel the bite of the metal cuffs digging into my wrists and ankles. I can’t hear the ragged breaths and grunts of the man on top of me. I can’t feel his disgusting dick violating me over and over again. I can’t feel the hot, sticky liquid flood my womb for the fourth time today.
No, as I float above my body nothing can hurt me.
“Is that everyone for today?” The muffled voice of evil meets my ears.
The doctor taps his pen against the folder in his hand. “She’s a tiny little thing. I don’t know if she can handle anymore.”
Locren appears, looming over me. His soulless eyes rake over my body, his expression twisting into something resembling happiness. Reaching down between my legs, he slowly pushes the cum pooling beneath me back into my core, making sure not a drop is wasted. “Little blood bag, you can handle a few more of my soldiers, can’t you?” His eyes meet mine, already ruby red with elongated pupils. Even if he couldn’t control me, I have learned better than to go against him.
“Yes, sir. I can take however many Perfectus you would like me to.”
Perfectus. What a fucking joke. Perfectus are the men Locren deem worthy of putting a baby inside of me. Some are other prisoners, forced to participate because of their “ideal” genetics. Others are random old men—definitely political allies. I can spot those leeches a mile away.
Locren drags his cum coated fingers up the valley of my small breast until they reach my parted lips. He rubs the remnants against my lips like a balm, soothing my cracked lips. “You’re going to be such a splendid little lifebringer. I can’t wait to watch your belly swell with my powerful little soldiers.”
He looks over his shoulder at the doctor. “Bring in the healer boy.”
“But…excuse my confusion, but I—I thought that we never let two healers breed,” the doctor stumbles over each word knowing that he’s about to be in a world of shit
I turn my head to the side just in time to see Locren whip around and grab the man by the throat. “And I thought I told you to NEVER question me!” The basilisk bellows, his body shifting into the snake that he is. Locren’s body curls around the doctor, locking him tight in his grasp. A cracking sound rings throughout the cold stone room, the doctor's bones bending under the pressure.
“I–I’m sor–” The doctor’s bluing lips barely press out the words.
Locren’s long tongue flickers in the man’s face. “Sssooorry?” Locren’s coiled form tightens, causing the doctor to turn a pretty purple. “Geeet mee the booy.”
With a single nod of the doctor’s head, Locren releases him, shifting back to his very naked natural form.
Of course, he wouldn’t spell his clothing.
I watch the globes of his olive ass bounce with each step to the high back chair in the corner of the room. He lowers himself into the seat, spreading his legs wide.
The sound of boots being dragged across the ground filters into the dank underground room.
“I don’t want to do this. Please don’t make me do this.” A boy’s voice squeaks out a plea that falls on deaf ears. Poor thing, he must be new here. His small frame appears in my line of sight. Tall and thin with beautiful, long, wheat colored hair, the boy crosses his arms in defiance. Getting a better look at his face, his nose is slightly rounded at the bridge, continuing down perfectly straight until the small hook at the end. His brows are pronounced, causing his rich, brown eyes to be shadowed by their deep-set position. I’ve seen a fair share of beings with his features in Incedis—most likely a Gryphon. Beautifully strong creatures, even at our age. The camp must have him on some crazy blockers to stop his magic.
With his erection on full display, Locren snorts. “It’s precious that you think you have a choice here.” Snapping his fingers he demands the boy, “Strip.”
Somber eyes flick to me, silently apologizing. Tugging the collar of his tunic over his head he drops it to the floor beside the bed, his simple cotton trousers follow quickly after. He’s so thin. I can count every rib and his hip bones protrude from his creamy skin like mountains. Locren gaze burns into the boy's flaccid penis with aggravation.
“Greer, come here, I have a gift for you. I don’t give those out very often.” Locren crooks a finger, beckoning him. Greer clenches his hands at his sides so tightly his knuckles turn white. With his head held high, he takes deliberate steps towards the evil man.
Locren holds out a golden platter with a white substance—bliss. “I’m going to assume you can figure out how to snort this,” he says with an eyebrow quirked. Greer nods, leaning forward filling his nose with the powder, and wiping his nose on his arm after he’s done.
It won’t be long until he’s a whole new being.
I watch as his whole body tenses up in fear. Searching for the source, I find Locren has his hand wrapped around him, slowly pumping his fist. A cruel smile unfurls from his lips as Greer becomes hard, his breaths becoming heavier. “That’s a good little fuck stick. Doesn’t that feel so good?”
I can’t see Greer’s face from here, but by the way his shoulders drop I can tell the being he once was is gone, replaced by a lust filled machine.
Locren drops his hand from Greer, now wrapping it around himself. “Now, go put a soldier in the whore. She’s so stuffed with cum, her used up pussy won’t fight you.”
The boy turns around, eyes wide and black as night. He doesn’t speak a word, just marches back to me licking his lips.
Everything in me screams to try to reach the being inside him—the one that’s terrified and disgusted—but that’s not what I do. No, I turn my head and go back to my safe space.
The place where I’m numb.
The place where I can be someone else.
The place where I’m not being raped for the fifth time today.
Sweat glides down my neck and forehead, dripping onto the leather below, deepening the color. The heat of the sun stings my exposed backside as the troll meanders across campus with my naked body slung over his shoulder.
“You better be squeezing those little legs tight. I don’t want any of that shit getting on me,” he grunts, readjusting me so that my ass is in the air, making sure not a single drop of the men’s seed is wasted. All around, other healers stop what they’re doing and stare. Some wrinkle their face in disgust, some show pity with tears lining their eyes. Others turn away, trying to preserve what little dignity I have left.
Ducking down, the troll narrowly misses the pitch of the tent as we finally make it back to the healer’s quarters. He shuffles down the line of cots, stopping short at my bed before dropping me unceremoniously. Causing my body to bounce and nearly tumble to the ground.
“Boss says to keep your legs elevated for a half hour and then you can shower. If you skip dinner, you will be punished. We can’t have our lifebringers depriving themselves of the proper nutrients,” the guard chides, rolling his yellow eyes. “I really don’t want to come back here, so just do as you're told.” Not wasting another moment in a place clearly beneath him, the troll vanishes through the burlap opening.
The moment I can no longer hear his footsteps, I drop my legs and lean over the side of my cot in search of a pair of dirty pants to wipe away the sins. “Maybe this time it’ll stick and they’ll leave me alone,” I mutter to myself.
“Sorry to tell you this, babe, but it only gets worse. The unworthy men see you as fair game. You can’t get any more pregnant.” Alaida’s soft voice carries from the front of the tent. In one hand she carries a steaming bucket and cloth, the other rests on her swollen belly—which takes up her tiny pixie frame. She can’t stand much taller than four-feet, with a very petite body. Her youthful face still has a little baby fat and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose.
Waddling forward, she reaches the end of my cot, lifting her slender arm and the bucket. “May I?” She motions to the mess between my legs.
My cheeks burn from embarrassment, but I still agree.
With a huff, Alaida lowers herself onto the lumpy mattress, placing the bucket at her feet. Instantly I feel guilty. She has to be only weeks away from giving birth and here I am letting her strain herself. “Ali, I can do it myself, no need to fuss over me.”
Slapping my naked thigh she scowls at me. “I’m young and pregnant, not on my deathbed.” She dunks the rag into the steaming water and then rings it out a bit. “Please,” she begs with her big melancholy eyes.
“Fine.”
A hiss escapes between my gritted teeth as the cloth touches my abused center—instinctively my body scoots away.
“Just breathe, Thorin. The heat will feel good in just a minute,” Alaida says softly, taking my hand in her free one.
“You know, I should be the one taking care of you.”
“Oh hush.” She squeezes me in warning.
We sit in silence while Alaida takes her time wiping down every filthy inch of me. I don’t know what to say that could possibly make our situation better, or our parents not useless pieces of shit.
I wrap my blanket around my body, turning to face the beautiful fae in front of me. “Hey, Ali,”
She hums in response, her mossy eyes meet mine.
Chewing my bottom lip I ask her, “Are you afraid of what comes next?”
Alaida quirks her head to the side, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. “Not really. This baby isn’t mine, no matter how much my mind says it is. Part of me hopes it doesn’t make it, because who wants this life for a child.” Pausing, she stares down at her wringing hands. “I hope I die,” she whispers so softly I almost miss it. A single tear rolls down her cheek, a brief moment of weakness she allows herself.
“Hey, look at me.” Gently cupping her cheek I bring her head up. “You have so much more life to live. I don’t want to give you too much hope, because that would be cruel, but I will say you shouldn’t give up that easily.”
Wiping her nose with the sleeve of her tunic she nods, “Okay.”
“How about this, I’ll get dressed and then I’ll steal you something sweet from the guards’ quarters.” Tucking a long lock of her strawberry hair behind her pointed ear, I keep my voice gentle and light.
“Only if you let me do something for you first.”
“Stop it. You did more than enough,” I say in a firm but loving tone.
Alaida places her thumb into her mouth, biting down until she breaks skin. She smiles at me with blood stained teeth as she brings her hand to my mouth, dragging her precious blood across my bottom lip. I stare at her wide eyed, unsure how to handle this situation.
“Lick your lips. Even better, suck.” She shoves her thumb into my open mouth, the taste of metal taking over my taste buds. Hesitantly, I do what she says—the ache between my legs disappears.
“How?” I ask breathlessly, my lips away.
She smirks triumphantly. “My healing abilities have exploded since I got pregnant. The doctors refuse to block the production of magic in fear that it will harm the baby. I’m not supposed to tell anyone.”
“What about your other powers?”
Aladia crinkles her nose. “Still blocked. I don’t know how they can target one magic over the other.”
“Blood magic, baby girl. It’s a very different type of magic,” I sigh, crawling to the bottom of my cot. The rusted hinges of the chest whine as I lift the top. Even the inanimate objects hate being here. I blindly grab the first article of clothing I can, which happens to be a nightgown. Better than nothing.
Once I’m dressed, I help Aladia up, lacing her fingers with mine. “Come on. I’ve got a great idea.”
Shading our eyes from the oppressive sun, the two of us walk hand-in-hand toward the staff’s section of the campsite. Filthy, thin tents become small wooden huts. The ground changes from dry and cracked, to lush grass. Even the air feels different over here. Honestly, everything here feels so full of life in comparison to Incedis. You would think that after three years in Terra I would be used to it, but I don’t think I will be. This realm is so…green.
The funniest part is I feel like Terra is a place I could make a new life for myself. Too bad it’ll be within the confines of this camp. Camp Dolent: home-sweet-home.
“What are you two doing over here? There are no natal appointments right now.” A large man stands in front of us like a brick wall. Aladia and I barely make it to his waist.
“I was helping this lifebringer get washed before and she couldn’t stop vomiting. I’m worried there might be something wrong.” With eyes lined with tears and a trembling lip, I put my princess acting skills to good use.
His sun-kissed skin pales, knowing that if he doesn’t get her medical attention, the loss of a soldier will be on him. And that results in, well, death. “Right this way, girls.”
The man ushers us to the maternity center. The only permanent above ground structure in this place. From the corner of my eye, I see Aladia wink right before doubling over, screaming in pain. “I-I think I’m going to be sick again.” she groans.
Rubbing circles into her back I scrunch my face at the man, watching as he just stands frozen in his place.“You’re a big strong man. Carry the lady!”
His thin lips curl back in disgust—big man’s afraid to get a little puke on him.
“Hey, Wyatt, you better come out here.” he booms. A reptilian looking doctor comes running to Aladia’s side, gently guiding her to the open doors of the maternity ward.
“You’re a waste of space, Mr. Fernin. If anything happens to this poor girl, I’ll kill you myself,” the doctor hisses.
Skipping behind Aladia and the doctor, I turn around and flip the dumb-dumb off. Was it stupid, yes. But, damn does it feel good.
Fernin’s face turns beat red, clenching his fists at his sides. That’s all the warning I get before he charges at me like a rabid animal. These are the moments when my small size comes in handy. I’m light on my feet and can easily sneak around. With ease, I weave through the guards standing around and between the huts like a maze. Reaching my destination, I swerve right and squeeze through the small crack of the ajar door, quickly scurrying behind the unlit cauldron.
Heavy footsteps reach the front of the hut accompanied by someone clearly trying to catch their breath. Brown boots come into view under the large pot, stopping at the table sitting just across from here. Seconds later there’s a loud crack of a splintering door.
Brown boots turn to the sound. “What the ever-loving fuck did my door do to you!”
“Where is she,” dumb-dumb snarls.
“Where is who ?”
“The fucking curly-haired little shit pixie.”
Slapping a hand over my mouth I barely contain the giggle bubbling from my chest.
“I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care,” brown boots huffs. “Get out of my kitchen, and fix my godsdamn door.”
Fernin makes a sound that’s a cross between a snort and croak. I think he’s trying to scoff but he seems to be too stupid to achieve that.“Watch yourself, bitch boy. I don’t know how you weaseled your way into here, but I sure as shit won't hesitate to lock you back up in the training area,” He growls at brown boots before storming out like a big baby.
“You can come out now.”
My heart slams in my chest. I’m so so screwed.
“I’m not going to tell anyone. I hate this place just as much as you do,” brown boots snarks from the other side of the pot.
Slowly, I push the heavy cast iron to the side and shimmy out. In front of me, stands the most gorgeous being I have ever seen. Long legs cross over each other as he leans against the high oak table. His long, goldenrod hands wrap around the edge—a weird symbol tattooed into the skin between his thumb and pointer finger. My eyes scan over his clothing, noticing that he isn’t in normal staff clothing. He may be wearing leather pants, but his half tucked tunic is the same itchy, ugly material as what I’m wearing right now.
He clears his throat, catching my attention.“Eyes up here, firelight,” he quips. Snapping my gaze up to his makes my state of hypnosis worse. Good god s, thank you for this visual gift. Deep green eyes narrowed in amusement stare back at me.
My brain sluggishly catches up to his words, making me even more nervous than I already am. Firelight. How much does he know? Did my father send him? I figured the bastard would never waste another thought on me.
“You’re not one of them,” I croak with fear and hope.
Shaking his head, he eases my worries: “And I never will be. So stop freaking out.” Opening my mouth to speak, he puts a finger up to stop me. “I’m sure you have a million questions, but you don’t have time for any of that. Go to the pantry and take what you need, then make like a ghost and disappear.”
Padding over, I carefully open the cabinet doors, grabbing two warm morning glories, since that’s all I can hold. And honestly, who can resist a good baked good? Using my elbow, I gently close the double doors and scurry to the shattered front door.
One foot over the threshold, I pause. The god behind me didn’t have to do this, he could have sold me out for his own benefit. Rotating my torso, I look back at him. “What’s your name?”
“That’s not important.”
“To me, it is.”
The corner of his mouth turns up in a small smile. “Zee.”
My face moves in a way I never thought it could—a genuine grin. “Thank you, Zee. I hope you find a way out. You deserve it.”
Not wasting another moment, I rush out of the hut, not stopping until I’m back at my tent.
Zee. A name I’ll never forget.