Fighting for Eden

1. The Master

Tearing through the woods on four legs, faster than should be possible. The wind rushes through my fur, my limbs burning with exertion. My head is determined; my heart, overwhelmingly happy. I dodge trees and leap over exposed roots, following the same path I always do. Tonight is the night—I can feel it. Tonight, I will reach the clearing. I've been getting closer every day. I know if I make it into the clearing, I’ll be free.

This is it—past the fallen oak, jump over the old fox den. Four more steps, three, so close—two more, one.

Suddenly, my eyes snap open, the euphoria from moments ago evaporating instantly. It was a dream—the same dream. I am not in the woods. I am in this gray box of a room. I am not a free wolf; I am a prisoner—a girl. I have two legs, not four. I have no fur or fangs. The only wolfish thing about me is the shock collar permanently fastened around my neck. And worst of all, I am definitely not free.

After fifteen years of captivity, you'd think I’d be used to the disappointment. But every morning, I wake to the same four walls, the same discomfort, the same heartbreak.

I stand, walk the five steps from my bed to the sink, and splash my face with ice-cold water, trying to wash away the despair. After fifteen years of imprisonment, I know every detail of this room.

When I was brought here at the age of five, the space felt small. Even then. Now, it feels tiny. The little space I have is occupied by a single camp bed, a shower, a sink, and a toilet. The room is five steps long and seven wide. There’s no carpet on the floor, no paint on the walls—no color or homely touches. It’s a concrete cage, built by the master for me. The only other addition is the unblinking security camera in the top left corner, missing nothing I do.

Every day is the same. I wake, wash, then wait. When he’s ready, the master will come for me. He’ll take me to breakfast, chain me to a chair, watch me eat, then return me to my room. The routine repeats at lunch and dinner. If I disobey or do anything he doesn’t approve of, I am punished.

I haven’t been outside in ten years. I haven’t seen the sunset or sunrise, smelled the fresh air, or felt the wind in my hair. I long for those things—just once—to see the world beyond these walls. The master used to walk me around the garden for an hour a day. He stopped after my fourth escape attempt. That’s when he came up with the electric shock collar and the GPS tracking chip embedded in my shoulder blade. He needed a way to control me.

Click.

I hear the key turn in the lock. The master has come for me.

“Get up, pet. Breakfast is ready,” his cold, sneering voice makes me shudder. I stand and walk over to him. I hate this man with every atom in my body. But there’s no escape. Every attempt I’ve made ends in pain and misery.

“Good girl,” he says, clipping the leather leash to my collar, and we head to the dining room. Once there, he pulls out my chair and straps me into it. The restraints around my waist, neck, and ankles cause a deep, unsettling restlessness within me. I’ve always felt that there’s another part of me—something not entirely human—that shares my body. It’s the great beast I hide away. If only I could summon that part, I might be free from this nightmare.

“Eat, pet. I need you strong for tonight,” he says, a gleam of glee in his eyes that causes my stomach to sink.

“Why? What’s happening tonight?”

The words slip out before I can think, a mistake I regret immediately. I’m not supposed to speak unless he permits it.

“How dare you? After all this time, you still haven’t learned your lesson,” he snaps, pulling a small, black remote from his pocket. My whole body tenses, bracing for the pain I know is coming.

ZAP.

The shock collar around my neck sends jolts of electricity through my body. Fire races through my limbs, muscles spasming uncontrollably.

“Tut, tut, tut. I hate to see you in pain. Why do you do this to yourself?” he mocks, voice dripping with cruel amusement.

Anger floods my tingling body. The inhuman beast inside me stirs, clawing closer to the surface.

“Apologize for making me punish you, pet,” he commands.

“I’m sorry,” I grit out through clenched teeth. A flicker of displeasure crosses his face before a white-hot pain shoots through me again.

“That wasn’t a very good apology. You need to mean it,” he says, pressing the remote again.

I take a few deep breaths, fighting the agony. Before he can press the button, I mumble another apology—though I don’t mean it.

“I'm sorry, master. I won’t do it again.”

“Very good, pet. Now, to answer your question: today, I’ve had you in my possession for sixteen years. That means it’s your twenty-first birthday.” His eyes gleam with something dark. “Tonight, we are going to celebrate.”

My stomach drops. The master never celebrates my birthday. Something is wrong.

“Tonight, pet, we will be married. You will become my wife, and in nine months, you will give birth to our first daughter.”

The blood drains from my face, and my body begins to shake uncontrollably. This can’t be happening.

“No!” The word escapes before I can stop it.

The master stands abruptly, his chair crashing behind him. He steps toward me, closing the distance, shoving his face into mine.

“I’ve waited sixteen long years for this day,” he snarls. “I’ve watched you sleep. I’ve watched you in the shower. I’ve seen your body grow from that of a little girl to a beautiful woman. Nothing you say or do will stop me.”

He straightens, grabbing the remote and holding down the button for ten long seconds. My body convulses, screams tearing from my throat. When the pain subsides to a numb, tingling ache, I open my eyes to find him watching me with a wicked smile.

He reaches out, trailing his fingers down my face, over my nose, my lips, my neck, my chest, and stomach. Then, between my legs, his hand cups me briefly before he exhales deeply and withdraws.

“You can’t imagine how many times I’ve fought the urge to come into your room and take you right then and there. But all my patience will be worth it. Tonight will be spectacular.”

I clamp my mouth shut, forcing the screams and vomit down. I can’t endure any more pain right now. My whole body screams in agony.

“I think that’s enough excitement for one morning, pet. Rest up—and don’t forget, I’ll be watching you.”

The master unfastens my restraints and leads me back to my room. He pushes me down onto the bed, then turns to leave. Before he reaches the door, he pauses and turns back.

“Just one little taste can’t hurt.”

He strides over, grabs my hair, and pulls my head up roughly to meet his gaze. Before I can process what’s happening, his mouth crashes onto mine—his tongue invading, his hand squeezing my breast.

Oh, yes. Tonight is going to be a very special night.

He turns and walks out, locking the door behind him.