(Zorya)
(Contents of this chapter can be disturbing for sensitive readers.
Read with discretion.)
The battles continued throughout the night.
With warriors falling like autumn leaves.
Xalik had two more battles, and he easily won the next one, advancing to the semi-final.
That dazed state of his changed into a silent killer.
He appeared cold, distant and disengaged.
His eyes were void of any emotions he generally carried.
The sentinels took him to Canara, and she clung to him like a leech, laughing and stroking his chest.
Even Caliath was smiling, happy that Xalik had made it to the semi-finals.
The four warriors were greeted and cheered by their respective packs.
The crowd dwindled after the fights, and we were moved to a hall.
My three companions were sent away.
“Be careful,” Ashlia whispered to me before leaving.
Her gaze travelled between Xalik and me.
I nodded at her.
Caliath summoned me to stand behind him.
I obeyed, clasping my hands in front.
Canara was still clinging to Xalik, feeding him grapes with her hands.
His gaze remained on her, his expression utterly unreadable.
Quietly, he accepted whatever she offered.
His strong and large hands tightly held her tiny waist.
“You have made me proud, and I know you are going to win the rest of the matches as well.”
A surge of jealousy weaved through me when she plopped a grape into his mouth and then pressed her thin lips against his.
I had no right; he wasn’t mine.
We barely knew each other, and yet my body was possessed by a mind of its own.
He consumed my thoughts.
Caliath’s grip around my waist popped the little bubble I was stuck in.
Revulsion violently churned in my stomach.
He held a champagne flute in his other hand.
Bubbles coated the inside of the glass.
“Welcome all.” Caliath raised his glass.
“Congratulations to the four warriors for making this far.”
The small crowd that had gathered in the hall cheered and raised their glasses. This chapter is updated first at novelping.com.
“Let’s feast and drink tonight,” he announced.
His slimy fingers dug into my flesh, holding me hostage.
“And the warriors may choose any slave from the lot to spend the night with.”
He pointed with his glass towards a corner where both male and female slaves with red collars around their necks had been gathered.
The terror and dread on their faces revealed they knew what was about to happen to them.
They merely had clothes on their bodies.
Only sheer white slips for girls and shorts for the boys.
Panic settled on their faces as the three warriors other than Xalik advanced towards them like a dark tide.
The faces of the warriors gleamed with malice, lust dancing in their eyes.
My heart unsettled; rage coursed through my veins.
“Seems like we are going to get a live show.
Let’s sit and enjoy,” Caliath maliciously whispered in my ear; dragged me with him towards the sofa and settled me in his lap.
The innocent screams and tearing of their clothes ripped through the air.
Like barbarians, they dragged two girls and one boy to the centre of the hall.
Madric, the reigning champion, held a frail girl in his gigantic hands.
She shivered like a wet cat in his hold.
The fear in her soft brown eyes had my own welling up with tears.
The girl screamed when he grabbed her long hair, throwing her onto the sofa and ripping open her dress.
The people laughed.
Some whistled, urging their warriors to perform this heinous act.
I closed my eyes, not wanting to witness a rape fest.
Caliath’s hand roughly gripped my face.
His agitating voice and breath were in my ear.
“Open your eyes and watch, or you will face the same fate in front of everyone.”
Tears dropped out of my eyes; my body uncontrollably shivered under his hold, but I did as he had said.
My grieved eyes drifted to Xalik; he was right next to us on the sofa with Canara.
She incessantly kissed his chest, writhing like a snake all over his body.
His expressions were unreadable.
His eyes flickered as they found mine; his jaw tightened at seeing me.
The sickening screams echoed in the hall as the innocence of three pure souls was ripped apart.
Caliath was busy revelling in the misery of the slaves.
His filthy hand had crept inside my gown, groping my breasts.
The only way to stay sane.
His own body was being violated, and yet I saw his lips moving and miming a single word.
Butterfly
Instantly, I turned my hand and stared at the tiny creature he had painted on my skin.
Caliath’s filthiness disappeared.
The screams, the horrors, the filthy people of this hall disappeared too.
I detached myself.
A fleeting feeling descended on me.
My mind was liberated, my soul taking flight like the flimsy butterfly through colourful meadows, above the scented flowers.
The spring breeze rushed past my open hair.
Liberating, the moment washed away the stains of Caliath.
The screaming died down, and I finally focused.
Two of the three slaves, a boy and the girl Madric had chosen, lay dead in the centre of the hall.
The scream built up in my chest but died in my throat.
I choked, drinking away my tears.
Sentries dragged away their bodies.
Their hollow eyes stared at the ceiling.
At least their suffering was over.
They were forever in the meadows I had just dreamt about.
The warriors, especially Madric, raised their arms as if they had achieved the highest honour.
I wished to punch his face, wipe away that smug smile.
Xalik stared at him with murder in his eyes.
“Come now, Shade.
I hope you are not disappointed that I didn’t let you have a slave of your own,” Canara cooed in his chest.
“I promise.
If you win the tournament, you can choose any slave you desire.” Her nails poked his nipple.
Xalik stayed quiet, not answering.
“Enjoyed the show?” Caliath’s filthy whisper was in my ear, sending a shudder through me.
Before I could speak.
Another Alpha approached Caliath, holding a glass of wine in his right hand.
“Come, Caliath, let’s have fun.
You can always enjoy your slave later,” he said with a mischievous smile.