LAYLA
As the carriage wheels creaked and groaned, I reached a horrifying conclusion: I might be worse off than cursed.
"Where are you taking again?" I asked, for about the hundredth ti.
Sabastine's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as he clenched his jaw. I could almost hear him curse under his breath, the words lost in the carriage's rumble. "The Dark Tower," he growled, his tone dripping with disdain. "You should be honored you were purchased by the Lycan King," he scoffed, looking away, his gaze fixed outside the carriage as we bounced along the rugged road. The setting sun casting long shadows across his face.
"Goddess Luna, may thy na be forgotten!" I cursed, exhaling deeply.
How unfortunate can I be.
Looking back, Sabastine's tailored black coat, crisp white shirt, and formal gloves felt out of place in the slave market. His single glass eye glead in his left socket, adding mystery to his already stern deanor. The way he introduced himself – "Sabastine, at your service" – still echoed in my head. Who would have thought he was the Lycan King's butler.
Letting out an exhausted sigh, I gazed out the carriage window. The Dark Tower lood in the distance. I was ant to arrive as a bride, at least adorned in silk and lace – not shackled as a slave. The thought still reeled in my mind, refusing to settle.
I scoffed, a bitter taste coating my tongue. "Ridiculous" was barely enough to describe my situation.
I slightly touched my neck, feeling a lingering soreness. Above all, I was grateful he had removed the slave collar.
As the Dark Tower drew closer, its turrets reaching toward the sky like skeletal fingers, I felt a shiver course through my veins. Sabastine's silence was oppressive; his single glass eye seed to bore into my soul.
The carriage halted before the tower's entrance, where two guards stood at attention. Sabastine descended from the carriage, offering a gloved hand. "Welco to your new ho, my lady," he said, his voice dripping with formal courtesy.
I took his hand, my heart heavy as I stepped into the Dark Tower. The shadows threatening to swallow whole.
As I looked up at the Dark Tower, it seed to touch the sky. The building was huge and intimidating, with stone walls that rose from the ground like giants. The front had intricate carvings and grotesque creatures carved into the stone; narrow, barred windows shrouded the interior in darkness.
When I got inside, I was amazed; the main hall was grand, with a high ceiling that disappeared into darkness. A curved staircase led upstairs, with fancy railings and tapestries on the walls that showed pictures of nightti hunts. Every step I took echoed, and every breath felt like a whisper. The air slled old and dusty.
"This way," Sabastine said, breaking from my daze. He gestured toward a grand door, its ornate handle glinting like polished silver.
I steeled myself, my heart racing. It was ti to face reality, but the fact that the Lycan King had paid a billion gold pieces for gave a sort of reassurance that I might actually co out of that door alive.
There were ways I had pictured the Lycan King. He was a man who went toe-to-toe with the goddess – a man most people considered a god. Centuries of legend had shaped my expectations, so I wondered what he would look like. A heavy beard, teeth like a beast, a terrifying face – that was the image etched in my mind.
But nothing prepared for what stood before .
As I walked into the grand hall, my eyes t those of a young man sitting upon the throne with an air of confidence. His raven-black hair frad a face that seed chiseled by the gods themselves. Full lips curved into a smirk, and his red eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. His broad shoulders and powerful physique seed almost otherworldly, as if crafted by the shadows themselves.
My heart sank. This was the Lycan King? The monster I had feared?
He gazed at with an unnerving intensity, a sly smile spreading across his face. "What a nice toy," he said, his eyes gleaming with excitent, his face beaming from ear to ear.
I recoiled, my skin crawling at his words. "Toy?" I exclaid, outrage and disgust mingling in my voice. "I'm not your toy."
His smile only grew wider. "You're finally here," he purred, his voice dripping with patronizing smugness. "Co here, little toy. Co kneel before ."
My anger flared, but fear licked at its edges. I tried to keep my tone steady. "I said I'm not your little toy!"
He chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Yes, yes. And I said... Kneel!"
The last word hung in the air, heavy with nace. I felt my strength seep away, my legs trembling beneath . I slumped to my knees, my body betraying my will.
"Better," he said, his eyes gleaming with triumph.
I felt frozen in place, my heart pounding heavily in my chest. Fear gripped so tightly that my breath caught in my throat.
What just happened!
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