Chapter 5: Tasting Drakness

Aleera POV

For three days, I have sat in this cell. Noone came except one man. He brought me a bottle of water and some bread, but that was it. Every morning, like clockwork. They hated me, but I didn’t care; the feeling was mutual. Yet despite my hatred for the men that killed my family, I didn’t think they would do this to me. Yes, I ran, but I had a good reason for not being with them. Did they honestly think I would go running into the arms of my parent’s murderers?

I should have chosen the werewolves. At least I wouldn’t suffer this misery. Stupid Aleera. I was fucking stupid for calling on them.

Hearing the steel door groan as it opens, I look over to see the man of the morning. He walked over, his back ramrod straight. He bends down, placing a metal plate on the ground that holds three slices of bread.

“Are you trying to anger them?” He asks, speaking for the first time in three days. It speaks! I thought dryly. I was beginning to wonder if he were mute and was waiting for him to bust out some miming, it would have been nice to have some entertainment. I ignore him, and he growls. He growled like some savage, making my head turn to glare at him.

If he weren’t one of my mate’s minions, I would appreciate the conversation, but since he was also helping hold me prisoner. I couldn’t care less about his words. He has brown hair to his shoulders and even darker pitch-black eyes. His scent told me he was a Were-Fae; he had Lycan blood running through his system. That and the black eyes were a dead giveaway.

before turning back to the wall that has

be forced to tell Darius,” he says. The man

responsible for your death. I have enough blood

Bring on the grim reaper,” I

hurt you. Do you have any idea who they are, what Darius

your name?”

not know?”

ask, and he looks away, so he has been told not to converse with

tongue so dry it felt like sandpaper. My throat is raw, but if they intended to keep me here forever, I would rather starve to death and put myself out of my misery. I was doing well so far, nearly seven days total without food, three

down here, dehydration would have killed me by now, but it turns out it is like an igloo down

Darius. I find

that be funny? They will kill you. No, they will force

“Why is that worse?”

“Because I don’t want to, that is why; you may have a death wish, but I don’t like killing people; I have seen enough people die, and I am not someone that enjoys killing,” I snorted before coughing on my laugh.

“You hate killing people, but you are a were-fae. They love hunting and slaughtering. I was nearly dog food before they brought me here,” I chuckle.

“I am not a monster and I sure as hell didn’t ask to be down here with you, so please drink at least, so I don’t have to tell them, I would rather you down here and away from everyone than up there with-” he doesn’t finish what he was going to say; instead he was looking toward the door.

“How about you tell them I am eating and drinking like a good evil minion, and they will be none the wiser,” I tell him, rolling my eyes.

“I can’t do that when they ask every day about you, so if you die and they find you, they will blame me for not telling them.”

“Instead of asking you, they could check for themselves, so run back to your master,” I tell him, shooing him away with my hand, the movement taking way too much energy than it should.

“You have no idea; I warned you,” He says, rushing out. I sighed, reaching for the drink bottle and tossing it through the bars so I wouldn’t be tempted to drink it.