My Property

The room was as tense as a beehive. Yet even moreso hollow as an empty cave. As Freya and Bella stood, standing with mouths opened watching the man in front of them speak with inhumane unconcern. His eyes staring at them with their lids low and uninterested. His energy, he felt; a wasted expenditure on their frivolities. As he stared down at them standoffish and now seeing them as lacklustre visual stimulants.

“Leave my presence…” he said now, turning back to his seat.

And Freya was confused. Her eyes met his again as he glanced backwards but this time not red or caught in embarrassment, instead rather filled with prickly thoughts that pained her too much to keep silent.

“You brought us here!” she yelled, enraged. The stolen dress she wore hugging her features tightly and making them ebb and sway.

“I know, and now I don't seek your presence any longer…” the man said, now making a dismissive wave of his hands.

But this only made Freya's anger touch the ceiling. As she was previously timid but now suddenly not afraid of even an imp from hell.

“And who do you think you are?!”

“I am Marcus Fernandez…” the man shot back immediately. His eyes turning as his feet did the same, with his hands in his pocket, and his calm and composure still intact.

“I am your lucid dream and worst nightmare…” he said with the weight of an anvil. “I am everything you see around you. From the walls to the throne, and the jewels of my hands, up to the hair on my head. You come into my abode and soil the carpet, and your presence makes the atmosphere lose its purity. I despise your individual states and find them meaningless and time wasting…”

His words left Freya dumbstruck for the space of a moment. As her eyes registered the remark with shock written on her face—taken aback, but not backing down.

She turned to Bella who was still crouched downwards. Her head still to the ground; crestfallen and defeated. And it hurt her to see her friend broken. Whilst Marcus took a slow mental walk back to his seat. Done with them in his mind's eye…

“Well I find you stupid!” Freya shot back loud, aiming to hit where it hurt. But with the Alpha's inflated ego, she felt it would simply bounce off like a blade striking metal.

Yet Marcus Fernandez paused now. His confident smile, only visible at the edge of his mouth now folding into the crease of a suddenly clenched jaw—getting lost, as it focused on the disrespect in her words.

His attention had been gotten…

“You'd find it wise to watch your tongue…” he said now, with his eyes heated.

“Or else what?” Freya snapped.

“You'd send us back to the dungeons?” she asked, mocking. “Leave us to rot in a cell, or feed us to the hounds?” she listed, with her eyes adding intensity.

“Have us serenade your ears with the symphony of our loud screams, begging you to have mercy on our dying souls?” she squinted, now seemingly reading his mind, as she listed the thoughts that were already going through his head.

“Your attempt at flattery is underwhelming…” he cut in now. His expression changing from hostile to analytical. “Yet you have quite the tongue…”

“And you have quite the balls to insult my best friend!” Freya retorted, sensing the mental upper hand she was gaining and now seeking to twist his arm all the way back, and even snap it off.

Bella on her part was scared of Freya's excessive defensive position for her sake. As it scared her that Marcus might come down from where he was and kill her to throw shock on Freya's face. Leaving her the butt end of the cigarette.

But Marcus instead, surprisingly smiled. His eyes glinting in an impressed expression. His fingers easing themselves from fists and resting on his waist, as the royal robe he wore spread out beside him. He was thoroughly impressed in himself. And admired Freya's tenacity. He was surprised yet didn't show it. As she was the first woman to ever speak up to him…

His eyes stayed facing her, staring almost distantly, as his lips with a mind of their own unconsciously spoke what he thought of her:

“Quick witted and unafraid… Stupidly courageous, and willing to take risks… Headstrong and arrogant. Able to push when pushed...” he listed, nodding his head now and making a pout of approval.

“You may prove useful…”

And Freya now stood breathing heavily as she paused confused? Her eyes squinting at Alpha Marcus, wondering what he meant? As she turned to Bella who held an equally worried expression on her face…

They didn't like the sound of his words. As he had described her as useful in the most ambiguous tone one could utter. Making them uneasy, as their minds jumped to differing conclusions on what that could mean for them…

“I called you here for a reason…” Marcus explained now, breaking the silence. “And a reason I felt was worth the effort…” his eyes on Freya particularly, and paying no heed to Bella. “As I noticed a shift in energy when you walked into the room…” he revealed.

“You are different from the other ones. The other slaves that have been brought here…” he told her. “You stand out from them as a Luna. But your energy is volatile and unstable. Lacking grounding as it needs another…” he huffed.

He said this and dropped his hands by his side, now lowering himself back in his throne. His face relaxed and in a blank expression. He was the type that loved the sound of his own voice, and was now basking in its volume and density. With his head falling back in a sigh and his legs spreading out wide gently; relaxing himself totally, before he said:

“But your Alpha has rejected you, and now you are my property…”