100 Days to save my Lycan King

ANNA'S POV “So, how did you end up here?” The lady next to me, covered in dirt and scars all over her unkempt body, asked through her bleeding, swollen lips. I averted my eyes from her terrified gaze and looked at the other side of the narrow path that ran through the middle of a thick forest. How could I tell her my tale when it was barely comprehensible to me? Somehow, I found myself at the back of a dirty truck, scattered with decaying leaves and molds of loamy soil. My hands were chained firmly, causing my wrists to bulge and turn red. A strap had been placed around my neck, which was attached to the tailgate of the fast-moving truck. “You would have to talk to someone eventually, pretty girl,” The lady repeated in a frail tone and coughed profusely until a disgusting slurp of blood escaped from her throat. “You never know, I might just be the last person you ever talk to.” My eyes widened and my skin crawled once again with cold goosebumps, despite the heat from the sun above us. “Are they really going to kill us there? Where are we even going?!” She scoffed bitterly and stared ahead, there were seven other ladies at the back of this truck, each as bruised and battered as the lady next to me and myself. Awkwardly enough, I didn’t recognize any of them, their eyes were as curious and frightened as mine. “What do you think they do to slaves?” She replied with a somewhat mocking question. “If they don’t kill us, we’ll be used as s*x toys.” She spat on the cargo bed, right next to my scarred leg. “I’d rather be condemned to death than be some Lycan King’s weak match or a f*****g s*x kitten!” She spat again. Lycan King! My father had always warned me of how vicious and menacing the Lycans could be, he had explained that that was why we werewolves kept off their territories and made sure to avoid any sort of contact with them. But then, it was my father who had stood in front of our little hut on the outskirts of my pack, watching the strange men that had suddenly stormed into our house in the middle of the night, throw me into this dirty, rickety truck. In his hands, he had cradled a brown sack that clanged each time his shaky hands had quavered. “He sold you off, those were diamonds he had in that sac,” The lady remarked bitterly when I finally told her the story. “What’s your name, girl?” “Anna,” I mumbled and the cold grip of death clenched my fragile heart once again. I looked at her desperately and sniffled, holding back a flood of tears that had gathered at my eyelids. “I don’t want to die…I couldn’t die now, I was just eighteen! How could I possibly leave this world without even finding my mate?” Unknown to me, I was whimpering under my breath and muttering desperate prayers to a deity I didn’t even believe in. “Shh,” She snapped with a frown and raised her chin. “We’re already at the gates of the Lycan King’s pack. Here, our fate awaits, whether we live or die, it is in the hands of the future Lycan King. He’s a prince, yet to be coronated as King, he’s cruel and mean and any other word you could use to describe a fiend. I hope you’ve said your last prayers already, child. By the way, I’m Kamara.” Her stern eyes were bloodshot and I was able to discover the hesitation and fear in them with my gaze. This only made my heart hammer and my eyes grew round with fright. My insides curled as the large, eloquent gates ahead of us suddenly opened as we approached. Death could be waiting for me on the inside, only time would tell. No one said a thing as the truck drove in through the gates, the other ladies bowed their heads but I couldn’t understand why. The hefty, stone-faced guards that mounted the gates all had their icy gazes on me. Their murderous glints sent shivers running up my spine, I was mightily thankful and relieved when the truck rode past them. There was something eerie and gloomy about the air here, my nostrils watered at the unpleasant smell in the atmosphere. Now the other ladies raised their heads, muttering inaudibly under their breaths with their eyes shut firmly. Even Kamara paid me no attention, I couldn’t understand what she or everyone else were saying. The beauty of the pack was oblivious to my frightened mind, I could only think about what was at the end of this dark tunnel. The dark appearance of this pack was like a shrill voice whistling into my ears, and I got my answer with a heavy pang of realization. Longsuffering and death were at the other side of the tunnel. “Look, it’s happening again.” The lady spoke up again grimly, her eyes were wide open now, her neck craned to one side, staring at a crowded area of the pack. “It always happens.” My eyes followed hers and I frowned in confusion at the boisterous horde that gathered at what seemed to be a courtyard. I squinted at the scene through an opening, there was a man at the center of the large, stony pavement. He had on a grey shirt that was plastered to his perfect torso by the sweat that drenched his body, his long brown hair bounced off his broad shoulders as he glanced around. He was bordered in a small circle by five other men who held swords and were dressed in battle armors. I gasped and glanced at the lady, “They’re going to kill him, he’s not even armed!” I exclaimed with a sinking feeling of horror in my guts. She scoffed emotionlessly and shook her head without tearing her gaze away from the scene, “Just watch, child. You shouldn’t whimper over someone else’s doom, just watch.” I did as she said, the truck had come to a halt and I glanced at the side mirror to find the driver also watching on. I bit my nails nervously as a roar rose up into the air, the first attacker ran towards the helpless man with a loud cry. I couldn’t watch, I looked away with a sharp gasp, waiting to hear the shrill yelp of pain from the surrounded man, but it never came. I looked up slowly and my eyes widened at what they beheld. The attacker was on the ground, his chest had been ripped open brutally and the seemingly helpless man’s right hand was covered in blood. I gaped at the ugly sight, watching the man slowly pick up the dead attacker’s sword. The others rushed at him at once but he was able to overwhelm them. My eyes couldn’t believe what they saw as I watched each man drop to the ground, either lifeless or close to death. I glanced at Kamara in shock, she had a little smirk on her wrinkled face, as though she had expected it to play out this way. The last attacker was on his knees, his head was pulled back as the man, whose shirt was now stained with blood, towered over him from behind. I squinted and the watching crowd held their gasps at what was about to transpire. The man plunged his thumb and index finger into the cheeks of the last attacker, forcing his mouth open. The man stuck his hand into his open mouth and grabbed the tongue of the attacker. “He really isn’t going to do it, is he?” I muttered under my breath, gripped by the thick tension in the air. Suddenly, the man dragged viciously, ripping the attacker’s tongue out of his mouth and a loud snap rang into the still air. My eyes widened as I saw slurps of blood fly into the air. For a moment, there was absolute silence, everyone was trapped in the same bubble of shock and disbelief. My heart lurched and again, goosebumps crept over my skin at the disturbing sight. Then, a loud cheer went up above the crowd as the man held up the tongue of the dead man, whom he had kicked aside. He held it up like a prize, brandishing the bloody body part before everyone. I flinched the moment he looked at the direction of the truck and our eyes met. I couldn’t tear away my gaze from those intriguing, evil-glowing eyes of his until he looked away. My heartbeat surged all of a sudden. “Who the hell is that?” Kamara chuckled wryly and replied, “That’s Ciaran Arioch, the future Lycan King who is to decide our fate.”