chapter five
899 Words
Chapter 5
When she returned to the room, **Liana's** face would have been the face of a broken soul.
She didn't glance at anyone. Her dress's strap had fallen off her shoulder, and the material had twisted as though it had forgotten how to support a human body. Red-eyed and silent, she used the back of her hand to wipe at her nose before assuming her position in line as if nothing had happened. As if her life hadn't been neatly divided in two by twenty minutes.
I swallowed and averted my eyes. It would have been offensive to apologize. What had been done to her was beyond words.
After that, the room seemed smaller. The air had lost its sweetness and expectancy and was heavy with fear. The other girls drew their shoulders inward and gazed at the ground. Any delusions they had brought into this home were now gone, stripped away as effectively as our dignity.
The door parted.
"Is it not **Elena Moretti**?"
He spoke in a composed tone. Not elevated, not pointed. Calm as a blade pressed lightly against flesh.
Before my body could betray me, my eyes did. They immediately focused on the black leather belt that encircled his hand and the way it wrinkled over his knuckles. Something was caught in the stitching of his cuff, and there was something dark on the gold clasp. The open V of his shirt bore the same dull stain.
Before my mind permitted it, I understood.
I forced the bile back into my throat as I glanced down quickly. "Yes, my king."
He came to a stop before me. One slow motion at a time, he buttoned his shirt. removed the belt from his grasp. His fingers flexed, causing the dried stain to crack slightly. For a heartbeat, I looked again even though I didn't intend to.
He observed.
He moved one finger over the mark and brought it to his mouth without saying anything, his lips closing around his knuckle. The skin was clean when he lowered his hand.
His expression was devoid of satisfaction. No rage. Not hungry.
Just not there. A complete, hollow silence that made my blood chill.
"**Elena Moretti**," he repeated.
He made no inquiries. That was enough to say my name. Heavy and unavoidable, it sank into my bones.
He went on.
The girl next to me, still naked and shaking, obeyed his silent order and stood up. He glanced at her and dismissed her. A few girls were told to get down on their knees. Some weren't. I couldn't find a pattern or a guideline to follow.
I understood that was the point.
Obedience included confusion.
Only four of us were standing when he turned away: **Liana**, **Livia Romano**, **Caterina**, and me. The distance was like a line drawn across my skin. Not selected. Not spared. Just put it aside.
Without giving a reason, the king departed.
As soon as the door shut behind him, **Livia Romano** let out a sharp breath and reached between her breasts to retrieve the tiny tube she had concealed there. With trembling speed, she applied gloss to her lips, the color blossoming like defiance. I stiffened, anticipating the inevitable outcome.
I was aware that punishment wasn't always instantaneous. When it wasn't, it was sometimes better.
Here, control was exact. Be patient.
We were brought up to think that people were inferior and weaker. But even as young children, we discovered the truth: the **Lycan King** and the **Council** were superior to fear itself. For them, soldiers shuddered. Packs were bent. At their word, entire histories vanished.
There were rumors about the King's ancestral castle, which was constructed on top of the burned ruins of former human settlements that had been reduced to both foundation and ash. These tales were told to us as cautions disguised as myths.
The door screamed open once more, sending shivers down my spine as the wind tore through the space. With **Captain Marco DeLuca** by her side, **Lady Valeria** walked in with her cane tapping once against the ground. The captain's presence was deadly, controlled, and inflexible. Like a weapon, her eyes swept over us before settling on **Liana**.
Now Liana was trembling. Beneath her dress's sheer white, faint red stains appeared. She kept her head down.
Lady Valeria remained silent.
Rather, she went across the room and unlocked a different door that was made of thick, reinforced metal and had three different locks. Every key turn reverberated, final and purposeful.
The smell we had been subjected to was eliminated when the door opened, and warmth and richness took its place. Gold-traced red walls were illuminated by firelight. Candles burned steadily and cleanly. The scent of wine, spice, and something dangerously alluring pervaded the air.
I almost fell.
It was a disgusting contrast.
Rot, perspiration, and terror behind us.
Comfort, power, and indulgence lie ahead.
That's when I understood. This was not accidental cruelty. It was a design.
I forced my breathing to slow down and clenched my jaw until it hurt. I couldn't be saved by anger. I couldn't be saved by tears. Control alone would.
I raised my chin just enough to draw attention, but not enough to pose a challenge. Just enough to let me know that I was still here.
I'm still watching.
I'm still learning.
And I refused to turn away this time.
- Writer
