Page 3 of The Lost Siren

“The games begin tomorrow. Good luck to all.”

D’Arcy grabbed me by the elbow and rushed me quickly down the hall, taking so many twists and turns that I knew there was no way I’d be able to find my way back without help. He stopped in front of a blank stone wall and pulled down on an iron ring. The wall retreated about a foot and pivoted inwards, creating a narrow hallway.

“In.”

I ripped my arm from his grasp and practically ran into the mysterious secret passage. D’Arcy rolled his eyes at my dramatics and followed behind. I emerged into a blessedly bright sitting room covered in candles and elegance. The large space was organized into several small sitting areas, like the parlors I had cleaned in Lord Crullfed’s household. The furnishings included beautifully carved wooden chairs, lavished with a myriad of exotic furs and velvets in blues and black. A fireplace hummed happily against the far wall, with two doors on the opposite wall. I wondered vaguely who lived here, and how much time I had to clean it before they returned; it looked unused for all its opulence, with a fine layer of dust lingering on most surfaces.

“This will be your chamber for the duration of your stay. The first door on the left leads to your private chamber and bathing area. The door on the right is locked, and I suggest you keep it that way. Bebathedand dressed in two hours.”

I whirled around, surprised. “Iam to stay here. Why?

He shot me a look, one that silently asked if all humans were this stupid, or was I a special case?

“Mr.D’Arcy,” I said tentatively, “I was under the impression that I was kidnapped to be sold at auction or put to work. If...if that’s not the case, then what’s going on?” I snapped my mouth shut, not wanting to earn any more ire than I had already invited. D’Arcy studied me closely, and I braced myself for his criticism. Servants weren’t chosen due to their great beauty, after all. My brown hair was common, my eye color unremarkable, and Lord Crullfed had always delighted in telling me how utterlyunderwhelmingI was.

“You may call me D’Arcy, no Mr.”

His fingers clasped together underneath his chin, but I wasn’t fooled by his demeanor. This ‘man’ screamedpredator; every inch of his body was tightly controlled aggression in a much different, more threatening way than my captor was. I willed myself to remain calm. Not all men beat women when they were alone, did they?

“What’s a Draken, D’Arcy?”

He grinned, flashing a set of fangs I had missed before. I’m sure my face went white.

“I would tread very carefully, Miss Wren. Drakens are very instinctive creatures, known to act irrationally first and wash the blood off later.”

My heart thudded painfully against my chest. I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong, but this man reminded me a lot of Crullfed; he didn’t need a reason to be cruel.

“I’m...I’m sorry.”

D’Arcy laughed, a loud booming sound that held little warmth or empathy.

“Did Benedict explainnothingto you? What a stupid little creature you are.” I kept my face carefully blank. Bullies thrived on seeing just how much their words affected you, and D’Arcy seemed no different. If he aimed to make me feel small, he didn’t need to try so hard. I was used to it.

“Allow me a kiss, and I’ll tell you why you’re here.”

I blanched and took a half-step back. The women at the breeding center exchanged their bodies all the time to make their existences more bearable; but I didn’t think I could do it. I shook my head and took another step back.

“No.”

It was the first time I had ever said it to a man, and I was terrified. D’Arcy flashed me a wicked grin, and my stomach twisted in fear as he seized me by the back of my neck. He traced the path from the top of my spine down the curve to my shoulders, gliding along my skin and squeezing none-too-gently.

“There hasn’t been a female in Dark Haven.Ever.”His nose buried itself in my hair as his hands tangled in it, teasing. I tried hard not to flinch; it had probably beenmonthssince my hair had been last washed. I hoped there were bugs in it, and it would disgust him enough to drop me. I closed my eyes and wished I were somewhere else. If I fought him, it would only last longer, and hurt more.

“Drakens are a race that has always kept to itself. The less the world knows about us, the more dangerous we are. You’d know that if you weren’t sobrainless.”

It was hard to focus when his fangs were so close to the pounding vein in my neck, and his hands pulled painfully on my hair. He lifted my chin up and I didn’t fight him as his other hand rested gently against my breast. It didn’t even occur to me to fight back.

“What else?” I choked out, hoping to at least distract him. I had no such luck as he bent down and grabbed my mouth with his, muffling my cry of pain. It was night and day compared to my captor: his touch had been giving, but D’Arcy was simplytaking. I whimpered as he licked along my lips and quested further into my mouth. I refused to open, instead going limp in his arms, forcing him to hold me up. His fangs tugged against my bottom lip, and I worried if they were sharp enough to cut me. A groan tore itself from his throat, his fingers splayed against my neck.

Then he was gone, and I was left gasping and afraid. He chuckled darkly as the passageway behind him opened, revealing my captor dressed more formally than before. He wore a black and royal blue cloak that was pinned at the shoulder, and a pair of unadorned leather boots. His purple eyes framed his high cheekbones, with full lips that were pulled back in a scowl aimed at D’Arcy.

“An interesting specimen you’ve brought, Benedict.”

The man (Benedict?) took one look at my terrified face and transformed into a...creature. He still looked vaguely like himself, but iridescent scales covered his upper body, changing to a deep purple around his waist and back that faded down into black, glinting obsidian with sheens of green against the torchlight. Hard spikes protruded from his back, white ridges that I was hesitant to call bones, but looked wickedly sharp and rigid. Blackwingshung from his shoulder like a heavy cape, the tips a dark amethyst color that matched the sheen of his scales. Claws extended from the beds of his nails, and purple scales curled around his neck. Faster than I could blink, he had D’Arcy by the throat, his wings spread wide.

“You don’t touch her without herpermission. Or are the rules only for others?”

D’Arcy’s self-assured demeanor vanished, replaced by a slithering, skulking sycophant.

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