The Beast I Am

Chapter 2

My body jostled in dull pain with each silent step he took. The fruity scent flooding my nostrils; Rhazien. I felt cold, realizing I was still in just the borrowed night gown.

Great.

Awesome.

There were voices from a distance, rumbling with anger, arguing. I kept my eyes shut, delaying the inevitable embarrassment, my face sticky and itchy. The sharp tones of unrest pinging around in my head, trying to focus on them instead of the white noise in my skull.

"Enough." Rhazien's arms squeezed around me softly, a new voice ending the debate with a finality that made me shiver. The mutters quieting immediately at the command.

I felt his voice before I heard it, Rhazien leaning down to mutter against my ear, the breath of his voice just barely brushing against my temple, "Remember... Let me talk. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner it's done." His lips melting the ice hardening my skin, accidentally.

I stopped my feeble attempt at playing pretend to look at him then, but he was already staring ahead at the small group before the massive window, his heel clicking for a final time. A quick glance confirmed my initial suspicion, the carved chestnut wainscotting of my last pretty prison was replaced for a cut and cold modern Highrise penthouse suite. Lightning cracked in the sky flashing the room in a blinding light, shadowing the figures seating in a semi-circle further. I took in the group in front of me, menacing with the rain-smeared glass behind them that looked over the New York City skyline. Three of them, two males and one female, perched stiffly in tall backed red velvet chairs. One of which was noticeably empty.

No one rose when we entered, but I caught a glance between the tall onyx-haired woman sitting to the direct left of the center throne chair, to the bald man, adorned in maroon floor-length robes on the opposite side. Our squabblers no doubt.

Rhazien slowly lowered me, his hands firmly supporting my hips and then the small of my back, there to lean on if needed. The ground felt wobbly, but I held my chin up, trying to keep my face calm. I barely knew my first captor; I wasn't giving these possible new ones a chance to learn any more of my weaknesses than they surely already knew. Something compelling me to focus my attention on the man sitting in the circle's center.

The blonde in his hair rippled with shiny darkened streaks, the gel acting as a glue to the scraped back strands. His eyes were deep-set, dark, and hollow as he glared into me with an impatient scrutiny. He crossed one leg over the other, nonchalantly leaning back on his elbow. And I became acutely aware that everyone here seemed to be waiting for this man to speak. He was the power in the room.

Rhazien dropped onto one knee beside me, his hands still hovering near my spine, although my legs had finally stopped shaking. I squeezed the bag in my hand for good measure, not daring to break the stare.

"My Prince, I present My Neonate, River Woolf." Rhazien remained on the ground, his head bowed, and arms outstretched towards me in a formal gesture.

"How charming." The man muttered; the sound forced like wind through steel pipes. His face was cool and impassive, revealing nothing but general mild disgust. Something was wrong about the gaze he gave, like I had been staring at a mirage too long; and examining his features felt like cracking open a tomb.

The prickle was deep in my ego from his careless tone. As if I hadn't just been woken from a fucking coma and dragged here in the guise of the night with absolutely no explanation or forethought. 'How charming.' Get bent asshole. I gritted my teeth, tasting the bones squeak. Willfully monitoring his gaze as it drifted up and down my form, the thought of me tossed carelessly into the bin, blinking and turning his attention to Rhazien.