The Enchanting Rapture (#1)

Chapter 4

Annika

Memory...

"Stand up straight!" Annika straightened her stance, though made sure to keep her head bowed.

"Spread your legs!" She did.

"Is she pure?" They touched her, Annika trembled in fear.

"She is."

"Good, she'll fetch a better price! Now put her on stage."

Annika walked on to the platform. The lights were beaming, she couldn't see a thing.

"Here we have a young female, pure in every sense, shall we start the bidding at two hundred thousand?" 

End of memory...

     Annika came to silently. She learned speedily to never scream from nightmares, especially memories. Slaves who screamed in their sleep were punished severely, and Annika was more terrified of punishments than the demons in her head.

      She realized the mattress under her was not filled with hay, it felt more like the beds she cleaned up in Master's quarters. Had Annika accidentally fallen asleep in one of the guest bedrooms? 

     Then everything came crashing back. Everything. 

     Annika put her hands on her face, hissing when she met tender skin. The swelling went down by much, and the cuts along her complexion were healing. Even her back did not burn as much. She guessed It was all due to the lightening strike. Whenever she was hit with one, all of her being became empowered, especially her strength and healing. It was hard for Annika to control storms, but she was sure glad her gift finally was helpful and not a curse. Her mother was a Storm Sprite, and her father was human, though everyone assumed she was entirely human.

     Annika always made the choice to keep that part of her identity secret. It seemed better that way.

     She slowly sat up in the large bed and gazed around the dark bedroom. It was a basic area with nothing but a bed, a lamp, and a dresser. The thick gray curtains were shut, so she did not know the time of day. 

     Annika pulled at a thin bundle of her black strands, relieved to find her wavy locks to be cleaned, the greasiness abolished from then. The dirt was washed away with precise measures. Annika must have been in a deep unconscious state in order to not wake once. Though Annika still felt tender, it was clear she was cleansed thoroughly.

     A door on the wall across from her soundlessly opened. In stepped in a man that stole her breath.

     It was the creature who set her free.

     He was absolutely exquisite, carved by the hand of beauty. His hair, a luxurious shade of light blonde, skimmed just above his broadly built shoulders. His eyes were a dark pit of oblivion, so menacing and threatening, but Annika wouldn't mind getting lost in them. His nose had been broken a few times, there was even a scar running diagonally on the bridge of his nose. 

     But what caught her attention was the scars that were placed specifically on his face. There were two horizontal lines of cut-into flesh just above his left eyebrow, and the same parallel lines were on his right cheekbone. Annika swallowed in apprehension. Those scars were a universal sign for danger. Only the worst criminals were given that mark. They were treated lowest of the low. If they were murdered in cold blood, not a thing would be done about it. They were in league with stray dogs.

     What could he have done to earn those marks? 

     As if sensing her train of thought, his eyes hardened into a cold stare of blankness. Annika seemed to shrink under the intensity.