Page 6 of Seized to Sacrifice
Instead, his face had twisted, and she’d seen the truth a moment before he lunged at her. It had been too late to run, and he subdued her easily with his much greater stature, trussing her up like a slain deer.
She’d realized when she’d seen the others in the back of his cart when he threw her in that he was the worst sort of merchant she could have had the misfortune to meet. A flesh peddler.
The three broken, chained men dressed in rags had ignored her pleas to free her and, when the wagon had finally stopped, they’d been in a lively market. The other men were taken out first, one by one. The last had looked at her sympathetically and kicked her the shoes stowed in the corner.
When it was her turn, the slaver didn’t get her out though. Instead, he’d climbed in and ... She shuddered at the memory of what he’d done with that nasty little lash when she’d fought him. Her stomach heaved and she tried to focus on other things.
Her head hurt from what the men upstairs had done, but there was also a bloody wound from before that and she had no memory of what calamity had befallen her. She remembered nothing. Her mind was a blank before waking in the forest in the dark. What was this place? Who were those men upstairs? Why did they think they knew her? She was sure she didn’t know them. She sank to the ground, curling her arms around herself tightly.
She had to face the truth head on. She didn't know her name. She didn't know where she was, or who those men were. She hadn’t recognized the town where the slaver had taken her, and nor did she know this fortress.
She screwed up her eyes, sniffling. Besides the pain in her head and back, her body felt hot and feverish though she was shivering with cold. She rested her head back on the damp surface of the wall.
How was she going to get out of this? Whoever these men were, they didn't like her much. They were her enemies.
She coughed, the sound dry and brittle, the cold air making her lungs seize. She pulled herself up as her feet began to slide again and took stock of the cell. There was a stone slab on one side that she supposed was meant to serve as a bed of sorts if they ever unchained her. Old cobwebs, dirty and dusty, hung down from the dingy ceiling and she thought she saw eyes staring at her from the darkest corners.
She looked away, hoping it was her mind playing tricks on her as she turned her head to the side and closed her eyes. She wished she could curl up and try to conserve some heat. Her ragged dress was too thin for these climes, she thought as she fell into an exhausted, fitful sleep.
* * *
The Beast
He staredat the unconscious female; arms chained over her head. He took her chin in his black claws and gently turned her head towards the light. She didn’t wake, didn’t even stir. How long had it been since he’d seen her face? After the first few lifetimes, he’d stopped counting or perhaps the centuries had just blended together too much to keep a tally … and now she was here, fallen into his lap like an unwanted gift.
He should tear out her throat. How long would it take her to come back fromthat? Would she? His scales itched in eagerness. He wanted to find out, and then he wanted to go upstairs and kill everyone else who lived in this fucking keep, but Nyx and Rye would know he’d been here. That was the only thought that stayed his hand. Together, they were strong enough to capture him.
He prowled around her cell and then drew closer, scenting her again. No, she didn't smell the way she should. Thorne and he could agree on that at least. He knew that his human side wasn’t sure what that meant. It made Thorne wonder if it truly was her. But, like Rye, the Beast was adamant that it was. What it was that made him certain, he didn’t yet know.
Once more, Thorne tried to break through and, again, the Beast fought him back. It had been a very long time since he’d escaped Thorne’s shackles and he would make the most of it before he ceded control once more.
He didn’t try to wake her, knowing that it would only start the fucking screams. They always screamed and it would echo awfully down here and give him a headache and then he’dhaveto kill her.
He edged nearer again. She looked human. She smelled human. But she wasn’t, though neither he nor Thorne could work out what was different about her. It wasn’t simply the similarities in appearance although that in itself was uncanny. They'd never met anyone else who looked like her.
He hovered over her, flicking his thick, inky tongue close to her ear, but not touching her. Playing. He could feel Thorne trying to fight his way out. Fearful of what, the Beast couldn’t say. It wasn’t as if Thorne cared what he did to her. He buried his nose in her hair and sniffed. No more information came from it. She smelled dirty and ill.
She moved in her sleep, her body shifting against his and he froze, arousal flaring without warning. He wanted this female, he decided. In his present form, hatred didn’t matter. He didn’t hesitate, taking in the swell of her breasts under the thin gown she wore. He eased a long talon between her skin and the soft material of her dress, being careful not to cut her as he sliced the dirty cloth just a little bit, teasing himself with more. He looked down at himself. His ridged cock, as black as the rest of him, was painfully hard. How long had it been since he’d been let out to fuck? He wondered if she’d wake. She’d used to love it when he did this, took her unawares, hard and rough as the Beast.
Would Thorne be angry that he’d fucked her first? He didn’t think so. He didn’t seem to want her. But the Beast did, and he knew Thorne would do nothing. He couldn’t. He’d never tell the others that his other side had broken free after all this time. Neither of them wanted to be imprisoned down here again as they had been before.
Grinning, he pulled the bodice of the dress down, her dusky nipples coming into view.
And then he felt the other side of himself fighting, more strongly than before, and threw back his head on a silent roar as his shining scales and pitch-black claws were replaced by soft flesh and hazel eyes.
* * *
Thorne
Thorne sworeas he found himself naked and looming over the woman. He looked around, his stomach rolling in his gut. The cell door behind him was wide open. He knew without a shadow of a doubt how he’d gotten here, and the thought made him break out in a cold sweat. At least he wasn’t covered in blood, which meant it was likely that the humans of the keep were still alive.
She muttered something in her dreams and his ears strained to hear her words, forgetting about the Beast for the moment. What secrets was she giving away?
He leaned in as he heard her murmur ‘Nyx’. How could she know that name unless this was the ruse they suspected?
She shivered and he belatedly noticed her state of undress. He frowned as he saw the rip in the bodice of her gown, her chest on view for him. What had the Beast been up to? He couldn’t remember anything – he’d never been able to – but … he looked down at his cock, engorged and jutting out proudly for any and all to see.
With a small growl, he jumped down and left the cell, padding along the corridors back up to the main keep. He didn’t bother to cover himself. He’d been spending time with one of the girls in the servant’s quarters lately, so being seen walking naked through the keep back to his chamber wouldn’t be remarked upon. Not as a man at any rate.
