Chapter 3: Meeting him

I don't try to run. It would be stupid.

Let them think I'm weak. I’ll wait for a real chance to escape.

I keep my eyes on the muddy ground, occasionally stealing glances at my captors. I memorize everything I can—how they move, how they look, their builds, their weapons. Each detail could save me later.

The cold bites at my skin, but I force myself to ignore it. Crying in a corner won’t help. Even though I want to, I can’t. I won’t.

They’d probably enjoy it. These men are sick in the head.

Suddenly, I’m yanked back. My steps halt abruptly, and I snap my head up.

I gasp.

A castle looms before me, massive and menacing. It’s made of something that looks like more of those weird black scales, stretching high into the stormy sky. Black clouds swirl above, hiding the spires from view. Mist coils around my feet, and a chill runs down my spine.

Without a word, we move forward into the monstrosity through doors higher than I can see.

Everything here is sharp. Swords jut from the walls, jagged stones litter the floor, and even the castle’s scales seem razor-edged, poking out like jagged teeth.

It’s slightly warmer inside, but the air is still suffocating and freezeing. Flickering fires line the walls, casting unsettling shadows. The smell of smoke and something metallic—blood, probably—fills my nose.

Everything is dark and feels of death.

No one else is here. No signs of life, no echoes of voices or footsteps. Just silence, heavy and oppressive.

Not for my ears, anyway.

We climb a staircase that spirals endlessly upward. My legs scream in protest, exhaustion creeping into my bones. All I can think about is the tea and pizza waiting for me at home.

But the climb ends. At last, we stop before a set of massive double doors. The men hesitate, glancing at one another like nervous children. Their leader sighs and steps forward, gripping the ropes that bind me. He quickly pulls me behind him.

I can feel it now. I feel what these men feel. Pure, undiluted danger radiates from beyond the doors. My nerves spike, my heart racing. I don’t want to be here. I shouldn’t be here. I'm in deep shit.

There's murder behind those doors.

The leader clears his throat, visibly uneasy. Yet, he knocks once. The six men who captured me shift behind me, their presence suffocating. It doesn't help my frantic heartbeat.

I wish I could wake up. I wish this was a dream, and I would wake up in my own warm bed.

“Enter,” a deep voice rumbles from the other side.

A shiver runs through me. The voice is like thunder, low and resonant, and filled with an authority that freezes my blood. I feel naked and exposed and frightened.

The leader pushes the doors open, dragging me along.

Inside, the male of the deep voice stands with his back to us, leaning over a massive table strewn with maps and papers. His black, scaly armor gleams in the flickering light. Broad shoulders, relaxed yet brimming with power, exude an ominous presence.

Death. Murder. Danger.

This is the King. There’s no mistaking it.

“My King,” the leader speaks, bowing low. The others follow, their heads dipping in submission.

“It’s late, Yilu,” the King growls, his tone more menace than words. He doesn’t bother looking up. He turns his face to the side, showing his profile.

“We found something,” Yilu replies, darkly promising.

At that, the King turns. His strange eyes instantly meet mine, and my breath catches. It takes everything in me to not turn around and flee.

This man—no, this creature—is death incarnate. His dragon eyes glow with an unnatural intensity, silver pupils narrowing to dangerous slits. As he straightens to his full height, a suffocating wave of power rolls off him, pinning me in place.

I want to run. I hold it in.

Fuck everyone here.

His gaze drags over me, deliberate and assessing, like a predator deciding how to tear apart its prey. The silence stretches, and my own heartbeat roars in my ears.

“What is she?” he finally asks, voice low and gravelly.

“Human,” Yilu answers immediately.

The King’s eyes widen ever so slightly—a subtle shift, but enough for me to realize the truth: I’m valuable here. I can use this.

“No territory has claimed her?” the King asks, his tone sharp, his calculating gaze cutting into me.

“We’ve heard nothing, my King,” Yilu says, pulling me closer.

I feel the fabric of my pink shorts swipe over my thighs when I'm forced a step closer. My toes are numb from the cold, and I'm just glad I'm wearing a bra, otherwise my nipples would be very visible. Yilu shoves me aside a step, presenting me to the most dangerous man on this planet.

The King tilts his head, not bothering to come closer. “Where do you come from? Flying into my realm like a little butterfly?”

“I-”

The rope around my neck tightens, choking off my words. Yilu yanks it roughly, the coarse material scraping my chin. I glare at him before forcing myself to meet the King’s piercing gaze. He's toying with me.

“I don’t know,” I lie, my voice steady despite the terror coiling in my gut. “I can’t remember.”

It is the safest thing not to tell these monsters anything. I can't risk the safety of my family. I first need to know what these people want with me.

It's like he sees right through my lie. He sniffs the air, looking unimpressed.

“I don’t have time for this,” he says after a tense pause. “Kill her.”

My blood runs cold. Maybe I'm not as valuable as I thought.

Even Yilu seems taken aback by his answer. “My King… She’s rare. She could be useful. And she has a… pleasing form.”

Disgust churns in my stomach. My nails bite into my palms as rage surges through me. Whoever dares to lie a finger on me, will not go down gently.

“Does she?” the King asks, his tone bored as he turns back to the table. I stare at his back, burning him with my eyes. He would be dead if looks could kill.

“Undress her.”

I gasp, stepping back instinctively. “No—”

But before I can react further, Yilu tears through my top and shorts. I glance down and flinch. His nails are formed into long talons, one talon the size of my entire hand. The razor sharp tip scrapes by my skin, slicing it instantly. Blood beads down from my stomach where he tore through my clothes, and I step away from the monster.

That's what they are. Monsters.

I'm yanked back by my neck and feel my clothes fall to the floor. Left in just my underwear and socks, I glare at Yilu with a fury that masks my terror.

I feel every man in this room looking at me. They roam my body like it's theirs to take, and an absolute cold stark terror seizes me. It's eight men here. Realistically, they can do with me what they want.

“Hm,” the King mumbles.

I snap my head at him. He's by the table, his body half turned to me. He looks bored. Like he's unimpressed by what he sees.

Good. That might save me.

“Fine,” he says at last. “Put her in slave garments.”

He turns his back to me again, dismissing me. “Perhaps she’ll entertain someone.”

Rage. Rage tears its ugly head inside me.

“Perhaps the fuck not,” I snap before I can think.

The room freezes. Every man stares at me, stunned by my outburst. Even the King stills, his back tense as he tilts his head, like he can't quite believe what he just heard. But I raise my chin higher, feeling my defiance skyrocket.

He will never touch me. My skin crawls just thinking about it.

“Whip her,” he commands coldly.

My breath hitches.

The first lash strikes my back before I can brace myself, pain exploding through my back. It’s fire, slicing and raw, and my vision blurs with agony. I almost lose consciousness.