AGE OF FURS AND FEATHERS

CHAPTER 1

The Beginning.

The ferocity within her remained latent, being that she was aware of the diabolical character possessed by these slavers. Primordially, she had been compelled to nurture her bruised emotions with silent dignity, having no idea of how one would treat young girls like herself with disdain. Although she never cowed, having plotted her intentions well.

She strutted down the corridor, causing the slave chains to collide. Other females like herself moved obediently as well. The uncouth languages of the slavers echoed through the corridors as they issued orders to the slaves, yanking the ones that were sluggish while they loyally obliged to their aggressive yet wordless instructions.

She had learned, right from the primeval stage of her becoming a slave to remain docile. She had been wise enough to know that, having vicariously experienced the misfortune that befell those who refused to adhere to instructions. They were ordeal. The memory still was fresh in her mind, when the slavers had tossed the remains of a girl into the ocean after she had been given to merciless dogs to feast upon. Alive. The slaves had had to use a long stick to remove the corpse of the girl from the camp of the dogs.

She remembered how her heart throbbed and how a bile had gathered in her throat at the sight of a ripped body dangling on a stick, rotten and surrounded by flies. The embodiment of evil was the statement that could be used to describe these slavers. It took all that was within her not to throw up the content in her throat as she and the other female slaves were forced to watch such a dreadful event. Majority of the girls had screamed with abashment when they witnessed the consequence of a character that refused to relent. And it had dashed the hopes of the girls that had placed their trust in the words of the unfortunate girl who, while she was alive had brought hope to them all by saying none of them would continue the life they were living forever and that it was just for a period and all of them would be redeemed from the clutches of the slavers.

She never mentioned anyone of them would have their blood spilled before then, or she would be the one to have undergone such predicament. Nobody was willing to make an attempt to escape if it would cost them their life. It would be dumb. Besides, what was the point of trying to escape in the first place? But maybe she was dumb, dumb enough to consider escaping from this place. She knew how the gods worked in their provinces, they were always active to the things happening in their environment. Nothing crawled beneath their noses without them noticing. And if she still continued to be dumb, she may be caught and impelled to undergo circumstances beyond what she could forebear.

It was odd, for each time she witnessed such foreboding sights, the lesser her fear became. She was beginning to see the reason for their vigor. Perhaps it was a transferrable spirit that had overwhelmed her suddenly. Though she was wise enough to examine her thoughts, so she would be able to learn the reason she thought the way she did.

That was what the other girls had lacked, introspection. And they had consequently faced the result of their ignorance. They had mentioned their intentions for all the others to know. They had refused to adhere to every caution, whether psychologically or physically. That spirit of tenacity so many people have considered as rebellion.

Mayhap she shouldn't make mention of her plans to anyone, to avoid being considered as rebellious. For all she knew, they could have died because they made mention of their plans. She could make a different approach to things.

Evil was preeminent in the land. The moment she had stepped her foot into this province, she was welcomed by the intense odor of rotten flesh and dried blood, along with the collision of unkempt slaves. Only God knew when they last had a proper bathe and were given nutritious food. She recollected the days when she still laid upon the comfort of her mother's bosom. The goddess of fragrance.

One would think that at the mention of 'god' or 'goddess', respect would follow because it held a lot of authority. That was true, but not in her mother's case. The respect given to her mother was short lived after the death of her father. Her mother wasn't a real goddess, she was a mere human when she had gotten married to her father. But that was absurd, because her mother possessed the capabilities of a true goddess.

Then she learned that her mother only possessed it because it was given to her by her husband who had sought help from higher gods to give her a gift so she wouldn't have to suffer the disrespect of the gods and the people.

When her father had died, she had chosen to remarry, for her husband was the only man she could ever love. Due to her not marrying another, she lost respect of the gods and the people, her gift was withdrawn from her, and she became an ordinary human again. She young girl had had to watch one of the king's men stab her mother. Anger bubbled within her at the memory.

She couldn't help but think. Was the king so evil that he would allow such an evil thing to happen under his nose. No justice has been served for her mother...she couldn't even give her mother a burial.

Right before her, her mother had slumped to the ground. This man had given her conditions on that day which was to either marry him, and live, or remain unmarried and leave. Her mother had preferred the latter obviously. Everything she did was for her daughter because she was going to die if she married the god and had any intimate affair with him. It was going to kill her unborn daughter slowly, being that she wasn't his real child.

On that day, she had been inside a cabinet, watching everything happening, while her mother had used the last fragrance she had made to cover up the scent and presence of her daughter so nobody would find her. Once the god and his troops were gone, she had crawled out of her cabinet, weeping for the loss of her mother. Little did she know that the house wasn't completely vacant of strangers. She was knocked out unconsciously, and the next place she found herself was in a cage occupied with unconscious slaves.

Although she had been captured, and was forced to undergo this sort of predicament she still was going to use the will she had to escape. Even though her will was no longer hers, and the head of the slavers was the one who could determine her fate, she still had the capability to control what she wanted, and was going to use it to her advantage.

She had studied the pack for quite a long time, especially during the times when all the slaves labored in the fields. She had been able to expand her knowledge of what route to take to escape. She was thrust into her cage, and this one was made of iron. Having been captured when she was six, she had spent a total sum of twelve years in this cage, and she had come to love it. The hays laying on the concrete floor had been her pillow of comfort, where she had shed silent tears. She reached for the pin at the back of her hair, that had fortunately not been cut short like that of others and she knew the reason they had not done so to her.

As though he had read her thoughts, a man appeared before her with incursion. She could have been fazed if it was the first time he had done this. But it was so often now. She raised her gaze to stare at his golden eyes with incuriosity, causing the smug on his face to become more prominent. She could have admitted how striking his appearance was, if his heart perhaps matched his outlook. But it didn't. He wasn't a man to be toyed with. The god of warfare...with a snap of his fingers he could kill her, for he possessed her will and she was helpless when it came to him. His golden eyes bored into hers and she couldn't help but glance away.

"You still won't regard me I see." He stretched his hand to caress her cheeks but she shifted away from his touch causing him to chuckle...it wasn't a happy one. "If your mother was still alive, I could have sought for your hand in marriage." Her blood boiled within her at the mention of her mother but she knew better than to glare at him. He chuckled at her reaction. "This isn't the time to be vexed with me Dionne. I would never harm you all I want is your cooperation. You are aware you cannot get it without my interference."

He had been mentioning this since the night he had first come to her. She was desperate for it, for revenge. But she could not make it without him no matter how much she may try to deny it. The culture of the kingdom was pathetic. A woman was totally useless without a man not to talk of a slave woman. They could be seen, but not heard. They couldn't make the slightest mistake. In fact, the future of a woman was determined by her beauty. Nothing other than that.

"Ace." He called and within a second his personal guard was beside him. "Take her to the maids to get cleaned up." He stated and in an instant was out of sight. It was something all the gods had. Speed.

The poor girl didn't know what to do, but she was quite aware that in this case there was nothing she could do. She didn't own herself, nor her body. Her plan to escape had not even been executed before it was already aborted, due to the fact that a so called god had interrupted it. But there could be another way right? All she needed to do was to reason another way out.

"Why does he want me to get cleaned up?" She innocently questioned the guard with the blank face.

"It is not in my place it tell. But I would advise you go along with whatever Lord Arram's desires. His offenders don't live to see the morrow." He emphasized before grasping her hand, and in an instant, they were in the hall way.

Dionne scanned the corridor with her eyes, and was overwhelmed with the beauty of it. It reminded her of her home, though this place was much bigger, it didn't have the atmosphere of her home.

"Dress her up for Lord Arram, and be quick about it. You know he is not a patient man." He said to a maid before speeding off. The maid scoffed.

"Just because he guards the province doesn't mean he should address me like I'm not his mate."

"You're mates?" Dionne questioned, observing the girl in grey. She had eyes as blue as the sky and cheeks that one would love to pinch, along with lips that looked prepared to talk at any point.

"Yes. Let's get you dressed. Lord Arram's wrath isn't one to be tasted." For someone who lived in a kingdom where women had limited speech, she seemed pretty direct. She grasped her hand before leading her to the dressing closet once they had entered a room. "This is the room where all his mistresses, alive and not have dressed up. And he hates his mistresses dressing too flashy and too dull. I remember trying to warn them, but many of them fell into the trap of their own ignorance all because they wanted his favor." She emphasized. "It was heart breaking, such beautiful women. Now, I'm going to give you the same warning, what you do with what I say is totally up to you.

Don't depend on what you know. Know that you are to be seen and not heard, and you are to speak when spoken to, you are to be obedient and the one that most of the women have failed in is to be knowledgeable. The other options are easy, but being knowledgeable is the most essential. Learn to apply wisdom in all your dealings. It is not possible to know everything, neither is it possible not to know some things. Follow all what I have told you, and you will be fine." The maid emphasized. "Study him, and know his ways, do it wisely and be careful not to become charmed. That should only be for his mate."

"Thank you."

Within a few minutes, her ragged outfit was ripped from her body before she cleaned up and dressed in a beautiful outfit, not to flashy neither too dull like the maid had said.

She walked into the room, to present herself before the man she wanted nothing to do with. His hands were stained with so much blood (not literally) and most of them were from innocent bodies. He had his back turned to her, giving her the privilege to observe the markings and scars he had gotten due to decades, probably centuries of experience. She learned from an early stage that the markings on the skins of gods and goddesses were evidences of how active they were in their duties. They received more strength that way as well. As his mistress, she was to serve him with all that he needed. No mistakes.

A sudden aura oozed from him, as though he had read her thoughts which he probably did. It explained how dangerous he could be. It was as though he was saying he wasn't merciful, he wasn't patient, and he hated his instructions no being followed. She shifted her thoughts to something else. She didn't own herself anyway, so she had to be careful of what she thought around him. Her gaze went down to her dress. She was his mistress now. She dared not do things against his will. In an instant, the atmosphere became less intense, and that was when she was certain he knew her thoughts.

Sudden images began to come to her mind, causing her to gasp because she knew they were never images she would ever think of. She glanced at him, even though his back was turned to her still, he was manipulating her thoughts, showing her what would be done to her if she didn't do what was expected of her at the moment.

Lose her virginity? She could have laughed hysterically if she was of course feeling suicidal.

And then, just then he turned slowly, and captured her gaze. She couldn't stop her eyes from widening at the new color of his eyes. His wolf was trying to gain control, and he was trying hard to keep it at bay. If she refused to listen, it could be the end of her life. She didn't want him, but she remembered what she wanted and knew she needed him, and obviously couldn't achieve it by killing herself. Before she could take a step, she was swiftly pushed to the bed by an unknown force that came from him.

"I don't like delays and you are aware of that. Aren't you?" His voice was no longer his own and she knew what was coming next. Since he hadn't taken her life yet, it might as well be the beginning of it. It could be the very beginning.