Enslaved by the Lycan

Chapter 03

The night passed as a blur of nightmares. I didn't sleep a wink. His scent still lingered in my room, suffocating me, reminding me that the walls of my own home were useless.

The sun had barely begun to lighten the sky when I heard the pounding on the door. I got out of bed, my heart thumping hard against my chest. I swallowed with difficulty as I jumped up, still wearing my pajamas with absurdly short shorts.

I was certain I wouldn't get out of bed this morning. That I would wrap myself in the blanket and cry until that man dragged me from my room while I fought for my life.

Damn it, I was scared to death.

"Open this door!" Cyrus’s voice echoed, followed by several others.

My mother ran down the hallway, but she wasn't fast enough. The front door was kicked open with a bang. Cyrus entered first, his face red with rage and urgency. Behind him were Hugo and two other village men. They didn't look like the neighbors who greeted me every day. They looked like executioners.

"Where is she?" Cyrus roared.

I appeared at the top of the stairs, trembling from head to toe.

"What is this? Get out of my house!" my mother screamed, trying to put herself in front of them, but Hugo pushed her aside without the slightest care.

I shook, gripping the handrail tightly between my fingers.

"It’s over, Juno." Cyrus looked at me with contempt. "The King is in the square. He wants the payment."

"I am not a payment!" My voice came out sharp and desperate. "He threatened to kill us all! If I go, what guarantees that you'll be okay? That I’ll be okay?"

"What guarantees our death is you staying here being selfish!" Hugo shouted, climbing the stairs two at a time. "Hundreds of lives for one. Do you think you're worth that much? A girl who doesn't even believe in our laws?"

He grabbed me by the arm. His grip was brutal, without a single spark of remorse. I fought, trying to bite his hand, but the other men climbed up to help.

"Let me go!" I screamed, feeling the tears burn my face.

"Tie her up," Cyrus ordered. "I won't give her a chance to run and condemn my grandchildren."

They threw me onto the hallway floor. I felt the cold wood against my skin as they yanked my arms behind my back. The rough rope bit into my wrists, tightening so much that I lost feeling in my fingers. My mother sobbed on the floor, held back by one of the men, and that sound shattered what was left of my heart.

They didn't let me walk. Hugo grabbed me by the arms, dragging me down the stairs. My bare feet banged against the steps, and my short pajamas rode up, leaving me feeling even more exposed and humiliated.

We stepped out into the street, and the scene was a horror. The entire village was there. No one said "stop." Some looked away, but most stared at me with a mixture of relief and hatred. I was the scapegoat. The offering.

When we reached the square, the air turned frigid.

The King was mounted on his black horse, motionless as a statue of ice. His men stood around him, all in silence, watching our approach with a contempt that made my blood run cold.

Hugo dragged me to the center of the square and, with a jolt, threw me to the ground. I fell face-first into the dirt, right at the feet of the King's horse.

"Here she is!" Cyrus shouted, his voice trembling with fear and triumph. "The sacrifice we promised! Take her and never come back!"

I sobbed, my face smeared with dust, trying to lift my head. Panic blinded me. I could only see the horse's hooves and the leather boots of the man above me.

The silence that followed was worse than the screaming. Suddenly, a low, deep growl—one that seemed to come from the very bowels of the earth—vibrated through the air. It was not a human sound. The King leaped from his horse.

He didn't look at Cyrus. He didn't look at the village. His silver eyes were fixed on the ropes cutting into my wrists and the finger marks on my arm. The fury radiating from him was physical; the air seemed to burn.

He knelt beside me. With a swift movement, he sliced the ropes with a small dagger.

"Who..." his voice came out like muffled thunder as he looked at Hugo. "Who touched her?"

Hugo recoiled, turning pale instantly. The King didn't wait for an answer. He gathered me into his arms, lifting me as if I were made of glass. The heat of his bare chest against my back was the most terrifying and real thing I had ever felt.

He placed me atop his horse and mounted right behind me, pinning me in an iron embrace that left no room for escape.

"You wanted to get rid of her to save yourselves," he said, looking at the crowd with a smile that promised blood. "But you forgot one detail about the Lycan King."

He leaned his head toward my ear as the reins brushed against the animal's neck.

"I do not accept offerings spoiled by the hands of cowards, Juno."

He pulled the horse back and looked at his ten men, giving a silent command.

"Burn it all," he ordered coldly. "And let no one out."