Page 11 of Mated to Monsters
Most have gone shrieking and flailing into the arms of my collectors, but this one has evaded all efforts from the dark elves and my soldiers to be caught. She ducks into the broken shell of a low building that has been destroyed in the confusion.
"Got you," I whisper as I stalk to the edge of the crumpled building.
I think she means to hide, and I remain outside, watching as she digs through the ruins with feverish intent. What is she looking for, I wonder? And that’s when I hear her voice, high and melodic, even as it’s tight with worry. “Matt! Elizabeth!”
There is nowhere for her to go.
It gives me time to better observe her. She doesn’t have the strong hips or formidable figure of some of the other women, and I doubt she would be a good candidate for King Asmodeus’ experiment. Still, her ruddy flesh and golden hair fascinates me. I could imagine how she’d yield to my powerful claws, and I find myself wondering how her body might feel, pressed against mine.
It is an errant thought that I dismiss immediately.
When we return to Ti’lith, the humans will be given to the King, and I will have nothing more to do with them. I crave, again, the dark pits of the kennels. That is familiar. That is home. The harsh greens and blues of this continent assault my senses.
I hate it.
But I enjoy the glint of golden light off her hair as she strains against the impossible destruction, calling out words I don’t recognize. Her alien features are precious in their own right. I am used to seeing the hard long ears of the Matrons, and the sharp, narrow features of other Volvath. I like the soft shells of her strangely shaped ears that go red as she works tirelessly to burrow into the ruins. Her soft, clawless hands begin to bleed at the effort, and I catch the bite of copper in the air.
Everything about her is new and curious.
"What are you doing?" I ask in a whisper, more to myself than to her as I watch the way she digs and shouts.
She does not act like the others of her kind, who hide their flat eyes from us. Hers are sharp and seem to miss nothing, except the shadow of me looming in the broken window. Are they animals, like the King said?
I don’t know that I can believe it, not as I watch her.
Animals react on instinct, and will even abandon their own offspring when danger strikes. This one is hurting herself to find someone, I realize that now. She is destroying her tender limbs in search of them, without a care for her own wellbeing.
It is what a sentient creature would do.
"What is going on inside that mind of yours?" Another question she can neither hear nor answer.
Hers are high ideals that would make the Seven proud. She does not ask for help from her cowering peers. She simply does, without consideration for herself. I can’t help but grin, and move to find a better position to watch her.
As the battle rages all around us, she ignores it, stopping only once to take a breath, blood dripping from her fingers. Her eyes are distant, and she doesn’t even see me before she goes back to her task, calling those words I’m beginning to understand as names.
That’s when she moves to the center of the rubble and pushes at a beam three times her length. I’m amused, as I know she won’t be able to move the thing. I should be gathering more of the humans for the experiment, but I can’t help myself.
Her drive captivates me.
Nothing deters her, and soon, the beam goes rolling off the mound of rubble, but she doesn’t stop to observe her success. Of course, she doesn’t, digging frantically through the wreckage until she reaches a concealed trap door.
Does she even realize she’s injured?
I move to the entrance, casting a heavy shadow over her doorstep. It would have been too small for me to enter when it was intact, but the ceiling has fallen away, allowing me the ease of access. I wait a little longer, hoisting my thick blade over my shoulder, urging her silently to finally see me. What will she do when she does?
That is what I want to find out. "See me," I urge her, though my voice couldn't be heard over the din of fighting even from here.
That will tell me if she is truly sentient, or merely a frightened Ur’gin whelp reacting on impulse. Witness me, little one, I think, feeling the chaotic energy inside of me drawn to her.
She flings the trap door open, then goes unusually still.
It does not seem like this one, to surrender so easily. But she sinks to her haunches as she stares into the abyss below the ruined building. Her arms drop at her sides, like she’s finally given up. I tilt my head, wondering what is going through her mind at this moment.
"My turn," I breathe. I dare take a step forward, and my heavy boot hits something hard.
The noise makes her jump slightly, and she whips around, her eyes filled with the sight of me. At first, there is light in them, but that drains away for darkened dread. Did she think I was the person she was looking for? I almost feel pity for her.
I remain still, impatient to see what she will do next.