Page 12 of His to Break
He leans back slightly, observing me with a smirk that sends shivers racing down my spine. “You’ve tapped into something deep within you—a darkness waiting to be unleashed.”
The words resonate within me like a drumbeat of rebellion. Darkness? A part of me craves it—the thrill of it calls to something primal inside.
I can feel it—a bond forming between us like a thread pulling taut in the fabric of fate. The more time I spend near him, the stronger that pull becomes until it's all-consuming. Every glance from him sends ripples across my skin; every moment shared amplifies that connection.
“I want this,” I whisper before I can think better of it.
He raises an eyebrow at my admission, intrigued. “Want what?”
“To be powerful,” I admit again—this time louder and with more conviction. “To not be afraid anymore.”
A glimmer sparks in his eyes as he rises from his cot and takes a step closer. My breath catches as his presence envelops me—his warmth radiates off him like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
“You’ll have power beyond your wildest dreams,” he murmurs, his voice low and rich with promise.
My heart races as he closes the gap between us until there’s barely any space left—so close that I can feel the heat radiating from his body washing over mine like waves crashing against rocks.
“Trust yourself,” he says softly as he brushes a finger along my jawline. My skin ignites under his touch—a jolt of electricity that sends tremors through me.
In this moment, everything else fades away: the darkness of the fortress and the oppressive weight of servitude lift like mistin morning light. It’s just Azrael and me—two souls intertwined by fate's cruel design—and for once, I'm not afraid to embrace what lies ahead.
I nod slowly but firmly, determination blossoming inside me as our eyes lock once more. In this dark world filled with fear and despair, perhaps together we could forge our own destiny—a future where we wield our powers instead of being controlled by them.
“Let’s do this,” I say firmly, taking a step forward into whatever awaits us next—the uncertainty no longer paralyzing but electrifying instead.
11
KARA
Ipush the heavy cart of rock down the dim corridor, my muscles straining under the weight. Sweat beads on my brow as I focus on the task at hand, but something else stirs in me—a strange energy pulsing beneath the surface. It’s intoxicating and unsettling all at once.
Then I hear it—a soft whimpering followed by a low hiss. “Shut the fuck up,” a dark elf guard snaps, his voice laced with cruelty. My heart races as I pause, instinctively drawn to the sound.
Without thinking, I turn the corner and stop short. There he is, a hulking figure looming over two terrified human women, dragging them by their hair. The sight ignites a fire within me, fury mixing with something darker—something powerful that urges me forward.
“Release those women,” I command, my voice low and seductive.
The guard’s eyes narrow at first, surprise flashing across his features. Then confusion settles in, and I can almost see him wrestle with my words. My pulse quickens; this is it—my chance to test whatever new power courses through my veins.
As if under a spell, his hands drop to his sides, fingers twitching slightly. His gaze loses focus, eyes glazing over like a marionette cut from its strings.
I step closer, feeling that surge of control wrap around us like an invisible thread. “Let them go.”
The guard steps aside mechanically, an empty shell devoid of willpower as the two women stumble past him. They glance back at me—fear and awe mingling in their expressions—before running into the shadows of safety.
My heart pounds in my chest; adrenaline courses through my veins as I realize what just happened. I did that—I controlled him. The realization washes over me like a wave: this power is mine now.
The women pause for just a moment before disappearing down the corridor. Their gratitude hits me hard—an overwhelming sense of purpose ignites within me as they escape to freedom because of my intervention.
“Get outta here,” I urge them softly but firmly before turning back to face the guard still standing there like a statue.
A heady rush fills me—the thrill of wielding such raw power—and it stirs something deep within that craves more than mere control: it longs for dominance.
I watch him for another moment before turning away to head back toward my work station, exhilaration thrumming through me with every step. What other depths can I explore? What else can I achieve? The thought shoots through me as anticipation bubbles inside me like boiling water ready to spill over.
I rub my hands together, trying to wipe the coal dust off, but it’s a lost cause. My clothes are already stained beyond recognition, the fabric clinging to me like a second skin. I can almost laugh at the absurdity of it all—what’s one more layer of grime?
“Need a shower, don’t we?” I murmur to myself, my voice barely a whisper, yet it erupts into laughter that bounces off the stone walls. The sound catches the attention of a few other slaves nearby. They glance over, brows raised in curiosity and concern.
