IV

IV
A/N: Before you read this chapter, please reread the previous one from the very start to clear out any confusion. It has been rewritten, and I don't want to ruin the fun by leaving you confused. Also, THANK YOU FOR READING. Updates will be much faster from now on.

Ziarah didn’t say a word after. But I could literally feel the sadness oozing off her in waves. I wasn’t looking at her, but I could almost envision her shoulders slumping in the dark jacket she had on. I could almost feel her eyes, without lashes, trying to rapidly blink back tears.

But this… this wasn’t what we needed at the moment.

All we needed was focus.

All I needed was her loyalty, not some puny feelings.

After a few minutes of walking, we rounded the corner in the dark and were immediately vacuumed into the screams and cries of the thousands of prisoners the abyss held. I halted in my steps. And so did Ziarah behind me. Because even as demons, this part of the mansion usually filled my veins with ice. My heart lurched in my throat and my stomach flipped with a queasiness that filled my loins with tingles. While humans cried for help and mercy in their cells, the demons laughed in mockery and scorn as they endlessly and wickedly tortured them.

Ten years of ruling till this very moment, this place had been the torture segment of the mansion. Millions of souls had been tortured to their deaths here, and maybe even millions more in the coming years. Thousands from the slave quarters, more from rebel camps I’d raided all around the world, and every single person that survived the raid had ended up here to suffer the same fate as slaves who acted out of place. The sound of the screams, the agony, the stench of rotten flesh and blood that stung my sinuses immediately reminded me of Riley. It was a spontaneous thought. Something that popped up in a sea of thousands. Not that she smelled this bad or bad at all. Not that I’d ever heard her scream in pain as much as the deafening roar of it bouncing off the walls in this place.

But, a few days back, during a heated argument and our first breakfast after the selection, she'd tried to be an advocate for the thousands of souls I send to hell every single day. 'You’re such a hypocrite, Seneca!' she’d screamed in my face, veins bulging. Talking about how I wasn’t any better than the humans I sent to hell. About how I sit on a high throne and judge the people like I’m above them all. How I make them into sinners and then punish them for sinning. How I was no different because if I was without my dragon, if I wasn’t privileged to be a god, I was probably going to be rotting behind this cage somewhere.

Or even burning in hell already.

And for the first time in my life, the screams of the tortured humans did something to me. It made my pulse race and my palms turn clammy.

I staggered back, stalling, looking at Ziarah over my shoulder who watched me with concern knitting her brows.

“Show me what we’re here for,” I ordered. My voice shook a little. And Kaelith chuckled mockingly in my head as I added in an almost squeamish voice. “Where is Orion’s breeder?”

As Ziarah led the way, bloodied fingers from the cells tried to grab us from both sides.

Ziarah had a light on now. A small flash she’d pulled out of her jacket before taking the lead, and every now and then, the light bounced off faces in the cells we walked by, and, unusually, I felt myself swallowing with each gore I could see.

“Where?” There was urgency in my voice.

She stopped walking at the dead end, and then flashed the light into the almost empty cell at the end of the room. Almost empty. Because the only person standing in the center of the prison was Orion’s breeder.

“Here,” Ziarah croaked.

I didn’t ask anymore questions. I stepped forward and peered through the bars. Eager to leave. Eager to be with Riley. Eager to be anywhere but here.

“What is she doing?”

The girl stood rooted in a spot in the center of the room, back bleeding and bruised, swaying from one shoulder to another like she was in a trance performing a dancing ritual. She was bony enough that her ribs were visible beneath the skin of her back and her legs looked like they were too weak to carry her weight.

Other than the blood trickling down her back from the punishment, and how unhealthy she looked, there was nothing else.

I looked up at Ziarah. “What...”

“Look.” She persisted, nudging the light in the direction of the girl again.

My impatience hardened my voice. “Ziarah...”

Hers trembled. “Look, master…”

I looked again.

The breeder was still swaying softly in her trance-like state, like there was music playing in her head that we couldn’t hear.

But, yet again, nothing.

I looked up at Ziarah, very sure my face had become red.

She saw the anger and the need to prove to me that we were here for a reason before I lost all the grace I had to give; so with the light still held up in one of her hands, she pulled out a knife from her jacket with the other.

I watched her, confused as she stepped forward, knife out, eyes wide, and tapped the pole of the iron three times. The sound of the clinks was barely heard under the screams in the room, but the breeder stopped moving immediately.

I was still confused. “What?”

“Look now.”

“Ziarah...” My voice rose. My stomach churned. My patience bled dry. My teeth gritted. “What exactly am I looking at?”

Ziarah seemed frustrated. “AT HER, MASTER. AT HER.” Her index jabbed in the direction of the prison agitatedly. ''Look at the breeder’s belly!''

RILEY’S POV…

Sunlight was streaming through the windows of Seneca’s room and I was still trembling in the sheet from the rush of dopamine I’d gotten from his lips on my skin earlier when I heard the footsteps in the hallway. It sounded like a soft patter of someone trying not to be heard trudging through the house. Like they’re being cautious, but not trying as hard as they should because I could still hear every step they took.

My fingers digging into the silk beneath me, my head shot up in panic.

“Who’s there?” There was nothing calm about the way I sounded and truthfully, a few days in the Dominus mansion had taught me some really valuable lessons.

Like one: you could never be too careful.

Like two: anything, everything can go from peaceful to chaos in a matter of a few seconds.

And three: no one, not even maids, not even guards had the right to walk down around the house unless they were sent an errand.

And now, immediately I’d jolted out of the sheet that still smelled like Seneca, the dread followed and I knew it. I wasn’t alone.

For the past few minutes that Seneca and Ziarah had been gone, nothing but silence had filled the house. I had laid still in the bed, watching the high ceilings above, basking in the warmth of the sheet and the masculine scent of Seneca that still clung whilst I also listened to the chirp of birds coming from the trees outside the windows.

And everything, even if it had been only for a few minutes, had been peaceful.

My core was still pulsating; yes.

My heart was still beating in the aftermath of the makeout; yes.

My lips still felt swollen; yes.

But there had been peace.

Or maybe I’d been wrong.

The footsteps outside the hallway stopped right in front of the door.

“Who’s that?” I called again.

Nothing.

“Seneca?”

Nothing.

I thought again.

Yes, Elin.

It could be Elindin.

“E...” I stammered. “Elin… is that you?”

Still nothing.

I threw the sheet off my leg and got off the bed, the shirt I had on dangled mid-thighs as I approached the door cautiously.

"Mal... Malrik?” I tried again and honestly, it was stupid to think the person behind the door could be Malrik.

He had fled earlier.

There’s no way he could be back so soon.

For a long time, I stood behind that door, my chest heaving, my fingers shaking so hard as I reached for the knob.

“This isn’t funny…”

There was no response to that.

“Seneca… I swear if you’re trying to scare me… this isn’t...”

The knob turned before I could even touch it.

I screamed so loud my throat burned.

The door was creaking open.

I was scampering back to the bed.

My breath came out ragged, eyes wide, fingers trembling, as the door swung open to finally reveal the tall man standing at the threshold.

“ORION!” the shriek was unprompted.

My body was on the verge of collapsing.

He stood by the door, unbothered by the unscathed way his presence had left me. Blue eyes, long hair, arms folded around over his shoulder as he eyed me condescendingly. The first of Veylor brothers. The brother I’d never spoken to. The one that had never looked at me without hatred in his eyes. The brother that was always in a competition with Seneca Veylor stood at that door with nothing but anger in his eyes.

But despite that, when his lips stretched, it was with a nasty smirk of amusement as he eyed me from head to toe before stepping completely inside the room and swinging the door shut behind him.

“Hello…” The tone of his voice sent shivers down my spine as he took a huge step towards me. “Riley.”