Chapter 1
I hate the sound my bare feet make on these cold stone floors. Slap, slap, slap. Three years of this shit, and I still can't get used to it.
Three years since they burned my village. Three years since they dragged me here in chains while my sister screamed my name. Three years of being Lord Vorthak's personal plaything.
This castle was built on suffering. Every stone here were laid by slaves whom he worked to death. The red banners? Made from the skin of rebels. I know this because I personally helped hang them up. The paintings on the walls show his victories ; of cities burning, of families being torn apart, of children sold to the highest bidder. He makes us clean around them every day so we never forget what he's capable of.
Just yesterday I watched him crush a servant's hand with his bare fingers because the guy spilled wine on his boots. He didn't even blink as the man screamed for mercy. Then he made the rest of us clean up the man's blood while he screamed.
I stop just outside his bedroom door and listened. I could hear voices inside, multiple voices. Then it hit me,"Of course, It's harem night, how could I forget "I asked slapping my forehead.
Through a crack in the door, I could see them. Lyra, the elf princess he stole from the eastern kingdoms, and she's got those dead eyes now, the ones we all get eventually. Marcus, barely eighteen, he was taken from some farming village last month. He still fights sometimes, he still has hope, he is not like the rest of us. Poor bastard. And then there's Senna, the demon girl with silver hair who actually seems to enjoy this shit. She's been here longer than me, and something's broken in her head.
"Kael!" Vorthak's voice cuts through the air. "Get in here, Now."he groaned.
I push open the door. And I was hit with that familiar smell of sweat and fear and sex. The others are scattered around the huge bed in various states of undress. I noticed Marcus has fresh bruises on his ribs while Lyra won't look at anyone. Senna was just purring like a cat, curled up against Vorthak's side.
"Finally," he says, not even looking at me. "I was getting bored with these three."
He snaps his fingers and the others scramble to gather their clothes. They all know the routine. When he calls for me specifically, they clear out. I'm his special project and favorite toy after all.
Marcus stumbles past me, and I catch his arm for just a second. "It gets easier," I whispered trying to calm his fears,but the idiot jerks away from me like I'm poison. "Smart kid"I murmured to myself as I watched the others leave the room.
When we're alone, Vorthak finally looks at me. Those red eyes are like looking into hell itself. "You kept me waiting."he groaned softly and I felt something growing in me
"I had to help Marcus treat his wounds, sir. You know from last time." I said boldly,I could only speak without fear when he's in the mood.
His smile makes my bulge harder. "He'll learn not to bite,they always do eventually." He said as he stretches like a lazy cat "Come here."he commanded.
I walk to the bed, past the silk sheets stained with god knows what. This room has seen too much suffering and too much blood. Sometimes I wonder if the stones themselves can remember the screams.
He reaches out to me, and I let him pull me down onto the bed. His hands are strong, and capable of crushing bones, but right now they're gentle. That's what makes this almost worse. When he's gentle, I can almost pretend...
"My beautiful broken thing," he murmurs against my neck, and I hate how my body responds to his touch. Three years of this, and I still react like I want it.
His mouth finds mine, demanding and possessive. I kiss him back because I have to, because fighting just makes it worse, because some sick part of me has learned to crave this attention. I moaned as his hands roam over my body finding every spot that makes me gasp, every place that betrays how much my body wants this even when my mind doesn't.
"Tell me you want this," he whispers on my neck, his fingers sliding across my skin.
"I want this," I tried to lie, but my voice breaks on the words because part of it isn't a lie anymore. That's what three years of this does to you. It rewrites your brain until you can't tell the difference between pain and pleasure, between love and possession.
He takes his time with me, like he always does. Slow and deliberate, making sure I feel everything, making sure I respond to his touch. His touch is electric, sending shocks of sensation through my body that I can't control. I arch against him despite myself, desperate for more contact, and he laughs softly.
"That's my good boy," he breathes, and I hate how those words make my heart race.
When he finally claims me completely, I bite down on my own hand to stop myself from crying out. And my cry is not from pain, Nah, he's too skilled for that. It's from the overwhelming mix of pleasure and shame and desperate need that I can never fully push down. He moves with the confidence of someone who owns me completely, and the worst part is that he's not wrong.
Afterward, I lie next to him, staring at the ceiling while he sleeps. This is when the self-hatred hits hardest. When I remember that I'm supposed to be planning my revenge, and not getting lost in his touch. I'm supposed to hate every second of this, not... enjoying whatever the hell this is.
But I can't escape. The castle is warded against teleportation. The guards would kill me before I even make it to the gates. And even if I could run, where would I go? My village is in ashes and my family is dead. This monster destroyed everything I ever cared about, and now he's all I have left.
That's when I hear voices in the corridor. Guards talking in hushed tones about something that went wrong in the dungeon. An experiment. Something about souls and ancient magic and things that shouldn't be messed with.
I file that information away. You learn to listen in a place like this. You never know when certain knowledge might save your life.
For now, I close my eyes and try to forget the feeling of his hands on my skin, the way my body reacted under his touch, the fact that part of me is already looking forward to tomorrow night.
Three years of hell, and I'm still here.
"I would surely have my revenge"I said to myself while I stroked my beautiful master, hoping to get another round of action.
Yes I am sick,I know that already.