Chapter 7

Scarlett’s POV

She pulls up a chair, her scrutiny making me shift uncomfortably. "Notice anything odd about the water?"

I let my fingers glide through the fluid. "It seems odorless."

She leans in, eyes narrowing playfully. "Curious, isn't it?" Her abrupt exit leaves the room in silence, save for my own sigh of relief.

I lay in the tub dozing after my ordeal. My eyes fly open as the door creaks, revealing Aela holding clothing that's seen better days. Well-worn jeans and a black tee. "Mistress Lila awaits you downstairs."

I rise, the water dripping off me. "Give me a few minutes." She nods, passing me a warm, fluffy towel before departing.

The clothing fits poorly, the shirt is two sizes too big and the jeans only reach my ankles, but they cover me, so I can't complain. Lila could have offered me a flour sack, I bitterly think to myself.

Navigating through the massive home proves challenging, but eventually, I spot Lila, an air of impatience about her.

"Took your time, didn't you? Future advice, Scarlett - punctuality matters."

I bite back a retort as we head outside.

The inky darkness makes it hard to see much, but the faint outline of a structure starts becoming more pronounced as we approach. It reminds me of a barn, standing tall and silent in the night. Lila hurries on ahead, her steps purposeful and sure. I, on the other hand, have trouble keeping up. The ground beneath my feet feels uneven, and in my struggle to keep pace, my foot catches on something - perhaps an exposed tree root. I lose my balance momentarily, hands scraping the ground as I break my fall.

Lila's voice drips with feigned worry. "Oh dear, are you alright?"

Pushing myself up, I glance at my scraped palms. "I've had worse. So, what's this grand tour about?"

Lila gestures toward the barn-like structure. "You'll see. Inside."

The moment I step inside the structure, the shift in atmosphere is almost palpable. The floor beneath my feet transitions from the rough exterior ground to a compacted dirt floor, well-trodden from constant use. Noises from the outside world fade, replaced by the soft rustlings and occasional snorts or whines of animals.

Dim lighting, perhaps from a few strategically placed lanterns, casts long shadows, making the rafters and cross beams of the structure faintly visible above. The wooden beams appear ancient but sturdy, telling tales of time and endurance. From them, various tools and ropes dangle, indicative of the care and management these creatures might need.

On either side, there are stalls. Some are open, allowing me to glimpse the occupants inside. Others are closed off with heavy wooden gates or reinforced bars, hinting at the more dangerous or unpredictable nature of their inhabitants. The animals vary in size and type. While I can't make out all the details in this lighting, the outlines of some creatures are recognizable, while others remain elusive, leaving only their restless sounds as evidence of their presence.

Between the stalls, there are stacks of hay bales and feeding troughs. The scent of grains mixes with the more potent smells of animals, creating a layered aroma that's both earthy and wild. Occasionally, there's the gleam of a water trough, catching whatever meager light filters through.

Toward the back, I can make out a slightly raised platform. Atop it are a few crates and barrels, possibly storing food or supplies for the animals.

The walls, made of thick timber, are lined sporadically with racks holding various implements — brushes, harnesses, and other caretaking tools. Every now and then, a poster or sketch is pinned up, displaying diagrams of certain creatures or scribbled notes, perhaps detailing feeding schedules or behavioral observations.

Despite the initial foreboding appearance from the outside, there's a sense of organization within, a clear indication of regular interaction and care for these wild beings. The whole place feels like a sanctuary of sorts, where the wild meets the structured, where care is given, and respect is earned.

As I step into the barn, the air feels thick with tension. Every soft noise whispers of creatures moving in the shadows. My curiosity is piqued, but I force nonchalance into my voice. "What is this, some kind of kiddie zoo?"

Lila chuckles, a sound devoid of genuine amusement. "More like a collection. Each with a tale of its own."

I glance around, absorbing every detail I can make out. "And why am I here?"

She steps closer, a smirk touching her lips. "You're going to take care of them. Feed them, clean up after them — the whole charade." Her laughter implies this is more challenging, perhaps even dangerous, than she lets on.

I've always had a connection with animals, but I can't let Lila know that. I have a feeling she will snatch away any joy I can find in this new prison of mine. "Zookeeping? Never thought I'd add that to my resume."

I eye the unusually fortified stall, a sense of unease gnawing at me. "What's behind this door?" My finger taps the heavy lock.

Lila smirks, raising an eyebrow. "That? Oh, just a little secret of Lorien's. You wouldn't dare to see."

Swallowing my apprehension, I challenge, "Why? Is it dangerous?" I can feel the weight of Lila's gaze, urging me to prove myself.

"Only one way to find out," she taunts.

With a defiant glance, I undo the lock. It clicks open easily. As I inch the door open, an unfamiliar growl sends goosebumps up my arms.

Peeking inside, my eyes meet a creature resembling a warthog but undeniably more fearsome. Its eyes, however, hold an unexpected gentleness. As it steps forward, revealing two menacing rows of teeth, I instinctively step back.

"You scared, Scarlett?" Lila sneers, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

Before I can reply, the creature's spikes suddenly retract, and it gives a low, almost plaintive whine, nudging my palm with its snout.

Lila laughs, "Seems like it's tamer than I thought." Daringly, she reaches out to touch it. But in a flash, its spikes shoot out, puncturing her arm. She gasps, drawing back as blood blooms from the puncture.

Horrified, I rush to her. But she shoved me away and I fell to the ground. Lila's eyes are filled with pain. "See what you made me do?"

My heart races, torn between concern and anger. "I didn't tell you to touch it."

Heavy footsteps interrupt our standoff. Lorien's voice echoes through the space even before he comes into full view. "What's happening?"

Lila retorts, "She did it! She opened the door. She's a witch. She must have put a spell on your pet, Lorien!" Shiny tears well in her cold blue eyes. She flips back her long dark hair as she lifts her arm covered in blood for Lorien to see.

I steady myself, meeting his intense gaze. "It's just an animal, Lorien. Maybe not as menacing as people say. Or perhaps we're looking for danger in the wrong place?" I give Lila a pointed look.

Her voice is dripping with venom. "She made me open the door, Lorien. She just had to see what was inside, I tried to stop her, but-”

“Shut up!”He seems serious. "Scarlett?" Lorien came up to me and helped me up.

I am a little nervous, but I tell him the truth anyway. “No, it is not true. She dared me to open the gate, and when the animal-”

“Mr. Peppercorn,” Lorien says. “His name is Mr. Peppercorns.”

I would have howled with laughter at the animal's name if the situation weren't so serious, instead I bit my tongue and continued. “Uh, Mr. Peppercorns was fine with me and then Lila stuck her hand out and… well, she got stuck.”

“Sounds like she got what she deserved,” Lorien says.

“But Lorien,” Lila whines like a two year old who's favorite toy was snatched, “Can't you see she is playing you? I'll just bet she has an agenda. Come on, you have to see through her lies, right?”

"Didn't I tell you to shut up? Really annoying."

Lila is about to cry, “Not me! She is the one who did the wrong thing!”

Lorien’s voice firm. "Lila, enough." Meeting my eyes again, there's a depth of emotion I can't quite place. "She is my Luna. If there's any offense, it's against me."