Chapter 3 #2
My breath hitched. The knot in my stomach twisted into a hard, painful coil.
This was a trap. The realization hit me with staggering force.
My mother had not sent a maid. These monsters had orchestrated the summons to draw me out of my safe tower and into the abandoned wing.
"My mother is the Warlord's wife," I stated, my voice rising in volume, desperate to remind them of the lethal boundary they were crossing.
"I am his stepdaughter. I suggest you step aside and let me leave. "
The scarred brute smirked, exposing a row of yellow, jagged fangs.
He nodded to the male standing furthest to my right.
The heavy oak doors behind me slammed shut with a deafening, thunderous crash.
The heavy iron latch slid into place. The sound sealed my fate.
I flinched violently, my shoulders jerking up to my ears.
I spun around, staring at the closed doors.
The reality of my isolation crashed over me.
I was locked in a dead hall with five massive predators.
When I turned back around, they were moving.
They formed a loose circle, stepping in perfect, predatory synchronization.
They cut off every angle of escape. The scarred leader took a heavy step forward, closing the distance until I had to crane my neck to look at his face.
"The Warlord hides you in the high towers," the leader growled, his sour breath washing over my face.
"He keeps the sweetest meat locked away from the rest of the territory.
We decided it was time to sample the royal hoard. "
"Do not touch me," I gasped, taking a rapid step backward. My shoulder blades hit the cold, hard stone of a carved pillar. I had nowhere left to retreat.
A brute with a missing horn lunged from my left side.
His massive, rough hand shot out and gripped my wrist. His thick fingers wrapped around my fragile bones like a vice of solid iron.
The pain was immediate and sharp. I cried out, trying to yank my arm free, but his grip was unyielding.
"She is so soft," the one - horned male murmured, his dark eyes wide with hungry fascination. He pulled my arm, forcing me forward.
Another male stepped in from the right. He reached out and grabbed a handful of my hair, wrapping the long strands around his thick fist. He jerked my head back, exposing the line of my throat.
I let out a jagged, broken sob. The tears spilled over my eyelashes, hot and fast, tracking down my pale cheeks.
Panic hijacked my nervous system. I kicked out blindly, my leather boots hitting their thick, ash - colored shins, but they did not even flinch.
"Look at her cry," the leader mocked, stepping right up against my body.
He pressed his massive, hard chest against mine, pinning me against the pillar.
He raised a calloused, dirty hand and stroked my wet cheek.
The rough texture of his skin scraped against my flesh.
"We watched you from the shadows for so long, waiting for you to finally wander into the dark.
Now we get to play. We are going to have a lot of fun with the little human before we snap her neck. "
Another heavy hand gripped my waist, thick fingers digging bruising indentations through the heavy wool of my dress.
They surrounded me completely, a suffocating cage of aggressive muscle and foul breath.
Their hands pulled at my clothes, stroking my arms, holding me captive for their amusement.
My lungs scrambled for air, pulling in short, frantic gasps.
I was going to die here, broken and terrified on the dusty floorboards.
The heavy ironwood doors exploded. The deafening crack of shattering wood shook the very foundation of the Obsidian Atrium.
Splinters the size of broadswords flew through the air, raining down across the stone floor.
The heavy iron latch snapped like a dry twig.
The monsters froze. The brute holding my hair loosened his grip, his head snapping toward the ruined entrance.
Sombar stood in the broken doorway, a towering monument of pure, unadulterated fury.
The ambient temperature in the hall dropped instantly, freezing the sweat on my skin.
His dark armor absorbed the weak light. His silver eyes blazed with a blinding, lethal brilliance.
He raised his right boot and kicked the remaining half of the heavy door off its iron hinges.
The massive slab of wood flew across the room and crashed against a stone pillar.
"Get your hands off her," Sombar commanded.
His deep voice struck the room with tangible weight, a shockwave of dark magic that rattled the dust from the high ceiling.
The scarred leader bared his yellow fangs. He released his hold on my waist and turned toward the Prince of Shadows. "You claim the throne, but you are just one male, Sombar," the brute snarled, flexing his massive shoulders. "There are five of us."