Chapter 6 - Where am I?
1069 Words
[Have the pack return to Aethermoor after the feast] Axel used the mind-link to instruct Oliver who was still watching everything unfold from above the tower.
The alpha's voice in his mind startled him, snapping him out of his daze.
As usual, he was starstruck again, marveling at the power the Lycan King possessed.
In all four corners of the mystical realm, no one else could do the things he did.
Only a god could. But Axel was no god. What he was remained unnamed. Unspoken.
[What about you, alpha?]Oliver asked considerately.
Axel’s head tilted up from below, throwing a gorish glance at Oliver above.
Distance wasn't a barrier; Oliver could clearly feel the weight of his stare crushing his bones. He grinned anyway—knowing the Lycan King hated concern, which made poking him with it even better.
Axel hated being questioned. But the universe had made it that his beta had the cheeky habit.
[Taking the little bird with me. It won't be long before her human scent wanders into the gathering. And you know what that means.]
Oliver smiled from ear to ear. Of course he had already figured Axel was going to leave first with the human girl.
He just asked for the fun of it, not even expecting a reply in all honesty. It was the Lycan King after all, he never answered to anyone.
[You answered.]Oliver said proudly. [The little bird is a good sign then.]
Such talkative, Axel muttered and closed the mind-link.
Axel crunched down to Lylah, his hands wrapping around her small frame gently—she was foldable.
For a moment, he just looked at her. This strange, fragile girl who was oblivious of the order she’d broken. Naïve little bird.
Not that he cared. He didn’t have the luxury.
He jacked her up in his arms like she weighed nothing, glancing over her one more time, her hair spilling over his shoulder, soft and tender.
He muted something—ancient magic. “Velanthur Kai’reth El’saar”
And then his feet lifted from the ground. The air trembled, coiling beneath him like an invisible serpent.
His body rose, lifting Lylah with him, soaring into the night sky, vanishing toward
Aethermoor—the realm of the Lycans.
**********
Lylah’s weary eyelids fluttered but did not open. They lingered a little longer in her comfort sleep.
She stirred beneath layers of silk sheets, stretching and rolling her butter fingers as warmth caressed her body pleasurably.
Her eyes opened slowly and a wry exhale escaped her lips—she’d just woken up from a nightmare. Not entirely true, it was altered at some point with a sweet dream.
An illusion she wouldn't want to wake from. But well, she just did.
Relief clawed her chest as she yawned in exhaust. The thudding fear, the growls, the impossible creatures….all of it—just a dream.
Thank God.
She had almost believed the cray cray happenings.
She dragged her hands across the fabric under her. It was impossibly smooth.
Softer than anything she owned.
Fresh panic crawled inside her again.
She paused.
This…..this wasn't her bed. It possessed too much comfort to be hers. Her brows furrowed.
The scent was different too—balmy and rich, laced with something entirely different from the alcoholic and dampy smell that ruled the air in her father's house.
This one was like roses dipped in lavender oil.
Her heart pounded as she sat up uneasily.
She wasn't in her room.
Her eyes flung wide open as she took in the sight of the crazy luxury. A strange feeling crawled up her spine. Fear? Awe? maybe even both.
She was in a chamber, vast and opulent.
The ceiling was high, arched above her, carved from black stone veined with glimmering strands like crystals frozen in ice.
Heavy drapes framed tall windows, its fabric so thick with a deep shade of blue, they almost felt like dark sapphire.
The bed she sat on was massive—canopied in flowing dark velvet, its frame covered with letters she didn't recognize.
A chandelier hung above, casting flickers of amber and topaz consecutively across the walls.
She hurriedly moved out of bed, her feet were welcomed by a thick fur rug, soft and warm beneath her toes. Sending a tingling feeling through her.
Her heart began to pound—only this time, slower, steadier…..drenched in confusion.
This wasn't a dream.
And wherever she was, it wasn't home either. Not even close.
She walked through the room. Everything was beautiful. Terrifyingly so beautiful.
The cabinet, spotless and dry.
The closet bore over a dozen dresses in optimistic colors, clean, unruffled—each one screaming nobility so loud, the walls probably blushed.
Lylah, who’d never experienced such luxury before, wasn’t sure whether to stare or bow to it.
While remaining dumbfounded in this haunting beauty, her belly cried out in despair.
She winced. Perfect. Food. She needed food.
She hadn't taken anything since she was back from modeling school.
Where would she get food now?
She had experienced enough frustration today, still, the universe just had to make the terrific night longer.
First, she needed to figure out where she was. And who captured her.
So far, nobody came in to check in on their ‘hostage’. Whoever it was.
Lylah coughed and loosened up.
She padded softly toward the tall double doors. They groaned slightly as she pushed them open, revealing a long eerie hallway lined by deep blue crystals embedded in black stones.
Moonlight shone through the stained glass windows, splattering patterns of crimson and blue across the marbled floors.
The corridor was silent.
Not a single soul in sight. Only the distant echo of her own breath—making it more creepy.
A cold, soapy unease filled her stomach.
Relax Lylah, she told herself. Horrors are just for the movies.
She stepped into the corridor, her steps featherlight, it barely made any sound.
Her eyes searched through the monastery, she periodically exhaled and inhaled confident air.
Where am I? Who lives in here?
She took one more step—
And paused.
Something moved.
Not a sound. Not a whisper. Just… movement. Subtle. A flicker in the shadows up ahead.
She squinted.
Nothing.
The corridor remained still.
She shook her head. She could’ve sworn she saw a shadow.
Maybe it was her eyes. Maybe not.
But whatever this place was, she wasn’t alone.
- Writer
