Page 19 of Mated to Monsters
We stare at one another so hard I can feel a storm brewing between us. The longer I stare, the less imposing he seems. Why was I afraid of him in the first place? He’s a big brute, like the dark elves that throw around their weight with no reason behind it other than they know they can get away with it. I’m tired of putting up with it, tired of watching my friends get hurt and killed because we’re considered a lesser race.
The next I speak, it’s slow and commanding. “Give her back.”
He bares his long canines at me in a grimace. “I told you--”
“I’m tired of your lies!” I interrupt, silencing the demon, though my emotions threaten to overwhelm me. Laura may be only a few years younger than me, but she needs my protection, and I’d go insane if I knew I could protect her, and did nothing. “Please,” I say, leaning against the cell bars. “Just give her back to me.”
His answer is cool and final. “I didn’t take her.”
But when I look up, he is scanning the women behind me one by one, as if he’s counting them, or looking for something he doesn’t find. When he’s finished, that hard expression comes over him again, and he pulls out a set of keys, flipping through them slowly.
My heart leaps into my mouth, and I wonder if I’ve finally reached the end of his patience. I don’t back away like the others do when he finds the key he’s looking for and pops the cell door open. I can’t show fear, now that I know he’s fully cognizant. I’ll suffer his wrath without giving him the gratification of hearing me plead for my life.
I just want to see Laura again.
With lightning speed he grabs my wrist, dragging me out of the cage before slamming it behind me. His claws dig into my flesh as he drags me against him, so I can feel that hateful energy rolling over me. “Don’t you dare question your betters, human.”
I keep my mouth screwed tight as he yanks me towards the door.
I asked for this. I kept pushing him, knowing his patience was already running thin. I accused him of lying and undermined his authority. Whatever comes next is the natural consequence of pissing off a demon.
A shiver passes over me, and I go cold.
In one, last fleeting glance, I look to the women still caged and shivering in the cell. Their eyes are darkened with horror at my fate as they glance away, refusing to look at me. Cowards, I think with disgust, furious at them for being too afraid to stand up for themselves. They go quietly into the arms of their captors, and that is why they are slaves.
I am a slave because I refused to watch my sister die.
I stood for what I believed in then, and I will continue to do so now, despite the monsters all around us. They may hurt me and take my agency, but they will never break me, and especially not this one, whose grip is far too tight.
14
GIROTH
One of the humans is missing.
I try to focus on that conundrum as the woman is struggling in my grip. Her protests run together in a string of unfamiliar intonations, and it’s easy to block them out. She has more spirit than I assumed, and it’s going to get her in trouble on Ti’lith.
How can she be bred if she won’t shut up?
There is also the injury to my authority that must be handled. She mouthed off in front of the guards, and she cannot be seen to have dodged the consequences. Not when my command is already tentative at best. The Demon King might have left this task to me, but that does not mean that I am in the other Volvath’s favor.
I am merely the Kennel Master.
How I’d love to drag my claws through her tender flesh and hear her scream again, but I also know that it could very well kill her. She is not so sturdy as a demon, and may fall to pieces if I handle her too roughly. Even my firm grip I keep in check, refusing to damage her rosy flesh unnecessarily. No matter how she struggles, she is as soft as she was in the wilds of Protheka.
I don’t know what I intend to do with her, but I at least have to make a show of punishing her poor behavior. I wouldn’t have tolerated half of her obstinance from a wild Ur’gin hound.
“…you cannot just drag me around! Where are you taking me?”
I ignore her, guiding her past a host of Trolvor guards. She goes quiet upon seeing their canine features, the muscles of her arm flexing beneath my touch.
Is it fear she’s feeling?
She can spare no reverence for a Volvath, but a Trolvor manages to mute her? I’m almost offended. I don a heated scowl and yank her forward, forcing her feet to move. She will not make a fool of me in front of the King’s guard.
Finally, we enter my private office and I toss her in before shutting the door behind me. “You, petulant little human,” I growl, blocking her exit as she rubs her wrist. “Without the good sense to keep your mouth shut. You will learn who is in charge here.”
Her bright blue eyes glitter with indignant rage, but she finally stops talking, her lower lip trembling as if it’s some great feat to keep her tongue from wagging. The silence that follows is charged, as if she’ll burst if she does not fill my ears with drivel.