Chapter 11: Chapter 11: The Wants of Man

The door unlocks loudly and then opens. Even from where I am, I can hear it. It’s like my senses are homed in on any and every sound, and I jump, ready for what’s to come.

This man, this king, has tormented me so long I am ready to fight, to tear his very eyes out.

I stalk through the bedroom and open the door to the sitting room and my jaw drops because it is not him.

It is not King Helos.

Another man stands before me, a soldier by the looks of him, and from the look in his eyes, I know what he is after. My stomach drops and I run, but he is quick.

Quicker than me. He grabs my body and throws me to the floor. The fear is pounding in my blood, in my ears.

He is on me in an instant, ripping at my dress, at my skin, and I cry out, hitting him, punching him, trying to get him off me. He snarls back and he hits me so hard across the face that for a few seconds, I see nothing but stars.

I knee him in the groin, just like I did with Issar, and he doubles over as I push him away, and then I am up on my feet running for the same door he came through.

I yank it open and gasp because before me all about me are the dead soldiers, the dead guards.

He has killed them all.

His hands grab my body, wrap around my torso, and pull me back as I scream. It echoes down the hall away from us both, reverberating off the hard marble.

He throws me back onto the floor of the sitting room again and then turns, slamming the door, and faces me. He’s panting, his eyes full of lust, desire, and madness.

I try to crawl away, to get away, but he is back on me, and this time, I cannot throw him off. He rips at my dress, tearing the skirt the whole way from the hem up in his desperation to touch me.

I kick out and scream again.

“Scream all you want,” he snarls as one of his hands digs into the softness of my breasts.

His lips press against mine. He wrenches my skirt up and I kick out again, but it is pointless.

He is too strong. My body cannot fight him.

His stench, his breath, is on me. It tastes sour and rancid in the air around us as he pins me down with one hand while undoing his jeans with the other.

“Little slut, I’m going to fill you up and make you scream properly,” he says.

His hand is around my neck now. He’s choking me, pushing his palm deep into my throat. I can’t breathe, I can’t get any air in. It feels like my eyes are bulging and all I can focus on is this.

Not his body, not what he’s about to do, but the fact that he is strangling me.

Both my hands grip his wrist. I dig my nails in. I know I am drawing blood, but it’s like he doesn’t even feel it.

His face is up against mine; his eyes are staring into mine, and I think this might be the last face I see before I die.

This madman. This monster driven insane by his lust.

His dick is out. I can’t see it, but somehow, I know. I spit at him and he releases his grip on my neck to hit me again harder than before, and I daze for a minute, unable to move, unable to think.

He wrenches my skirt up further. His hand is back on my throat and I think he is planning on fucking me while I die. I can’t scream. I can’t even whimper because my voice is trapped, lost under the tightness of his hand.

I shut my eyes, gasping for breath, as I feel his dick pressed against my leg, and then the door opens and guards are there in the room, hauling him off me, and suddenly I can breathe.

Suddenly, I can move.

I clutch my neck as I scoot away, away from them all. There are so many of them, all armed, all staring at me and the dead soldiers outside.

I know they have rescued me, that they have saved me from this man, but right now they feel just as dangerous to me, just as much of a threat.

I curl myself up, wrapping the torn remnants of the dress around me in some attempt to hide myself.

I want them to leave. I want them to go.

They have done their job; what more do they want?

And then he is here. King Helos.

He storms into the room, glaring at the man that has done this. Helos’s face is twisted with fury and his eyes are so dark they frighten my very soul. The guards drag the man from the room and Helos turns as his eyes find mine.

The darkness is gone. The fury too. He looks like he cares. Like he actually is concerned for me.

But I know this is a lie. I know from the last God knows how many days of being locked in here that he has no regard for me whatsoever.

“Kera,” he says softly, and in that moment, I lose it completely.

My anger surges and I see red. My rage spreads through my blood and my entire body shakes with it.

I get to my feet. He watches me like he doesn’t understand what is happening.

I grab the nearest thing I can and lob it at him without thinking, and thank God my aim is crap because the glass crashes into the wall half a meter from his head and shatters.

The guards tense, ready to react, ready to protect their king, but he waves them away dismissively and I stand there seething as they quietly retreat and it is just me and him alone. Helos and I.

“You,” I shout when it is just us and there is no need to. He can hear me perfectly well, but I want to shout. I want him to feel how angry I am. “You have kept me here, locked up, alone in this room.”

He smirks momentarily. “I thought you wanted to hide,” he replies.

I snarl, lobbing something else at him, and again I miss.

“Are you going to throw things at me all night?” he replies.

“If I have to,” I snarl, going to pick up something else, something larger, something that would really hurt—if I could actually throw straight.

He crosses the room quickly and yanks me into his chest, so I clench my fists, trying to pull away. His hands are gripping mine and I can feel the shockwaves reverberating through me.

“Let me go,” I cry.

“When you calm down,” he says.

“Calm down? You have kept me locked away in this room alone for days. Like I am your prisoner,” I retort.

“If you were my prisoner, then I would have kept you in the cells,” he says.

I shake my head. “I am your prisoner all the same no matter how gilded you make my prison.”

His lips curl. “Perhaps that is true,” he says.

I take the opportunity to wrench my arms free from him. I stumble back away and steady myself as his eyes linger on me. “Why are you keeping me like this?” I ask quietly.

My anger is leaving me and all I can feel now is that same confusion.

“I have my reasons,” he says.

“Fuck your reasons,” I spit and he laughs.

“You have a foul mouth for someone so pretty,” he states.

I scowl at him. “Leave me alone if you’re just going to torment me.”

“I have not tormented you. I have given you everything you could want. You have a whole suite of rooms, a bath big enough to swim in. I even gave you salt direct from the sea. What more could you wish for?” he replies.

“Entertainment,” I say quietly.

He raises his eyebrows at me and I can see from the look in his eyes what he is thinking.

I scowl again. “Not like that. I am bored. There is nothing to do in this room. There are no books, nothing to occupy my mind.”

“And what would you like to occupy your mind with?” he asks almost seductively, and I want to throw something at his head again so badly that my eyes even look around for something suitable before I can think to reply.

“Fresh air, space to move. Something, anything other than just these walls,” I gasp.

“I cannot give you that. You said it yourself that everyone out there is a threat to you,” he replies, and despite my heart sinking, I don’t give up. I refuse to.

“And you said your power as a king would command them. That you could keep me safe,” I retort.

He sighs as if he is actually considering what I am asking, and I hold my breath even though it is hopeless. “If I give you the Royal Castle, will that be sufficient for your needs?”

“What?” I ask in disbelief.

“You will be allowed this floor and the two below it. There is a small garden as well that you can use,” he states as my eyes widen.

“Are you serious?” I reply, not quite daring to believe it.

“Will it stop you from throwing things at me?” he asks.

I laugh before nodding.

He frowns as if the sound of my laughter is strange to him. “Fine,” he says. “But you will be escorted by the guards at all times. You cannot go anywhere without them.”

“Okay,” I say. I will agree to anything right now. Hell, I would even kiss him right now if it means I could leave these rooms.

“I will inform the guards. From tomorrow, you will be allowed out,” he says.

“Why not tonight?” I ask before I can stop myself.

He looks from my face to the rip the whole way up the dress I am wearing.

“I think you should rest tonight. You’ve had more than enough drama for one day,” he replies.

“Fine,” I mutter, subconsciously rubbing where the man had held me, where he wrapped his fingers so tightly around my neck. I can do one more night, though I know I will barely be able to sleep in anticipation.

“Do you need anything for your bruises?” he asks.

I frown momentarily. “I heal faster than a human,” I state, looking back at him. “The salt will heal me.”

He nods at my words as if they make sense to him and then he does something even more unexpected. He turns and leaves me.

And I am standing there, dumbfounded by everything that has just happened.

He has relented; he has extended my prison beyond just these walls, giving me what I have asked for, and yet he has asked nothing in return.

Who is this man? What the hell does he want from me? Nothing about his behavior makes sense.

I walk back to the bathroom. Tomorrow, I know I will feel the air on my skin. Real air. Fresh air. I pull the plug on the bath, wait until it empties, and then fill it again with hot water.

The creature in me is dormant. She was for the entirety of the attack. Even when Helos was here, with all the power and aura of him around me, touching me, she didn’t stir, and that alone tells me something.

That what I’ve been doing has been working.

So tonight we will both have a reward; tonight, we will both have a much-needed treat.