Ego or Her

(Zorya)

The woman was the female version of Caliath: same blue eyes and brown hair. Ruthlessness and authority exuded from her. She donned a red and gold gown with matching accessories. A coiled gold serpent-styled tiara rested on her head, studded with rubies. 

This had to be Vega Canara, Caliath's sister. 

“I said end his pathetic life and claim your victory,” she ordered again, her hands fisted by her side. 

The crowd went completely silent. No one moved or whispered. Every eye was focused on the warrior with the spear. The bead of perspiration trickled down his hair, spear sharp still inches away from taking the life of his enemy. 

To everyone's dismay, instead of obeying Canara, he casually tossed the spear on the sand and stepped back. 

“No!” His deep, gravelly voice echoed like a thunder of defiance in the arena. 

“Ohhh!” 

“Did he just defy the order of his Mistress?” 

“He is so dead.”

“A slave so daring.”

“A fine warrior with shitty behaviour.”

The crowd began to whisper. Their judgmental eyes focused on the warrior. Slowly, my eyes swivelled towards Canara. Her jaw was set, eyes blazing. 

She raised her arm, a shiny gold bracelet resting on her wrist. She pressed it with her index finger. 

The warrior instantly fell to the ground, his body spasming. I knew the feeling too well, having undergone it with Caliath. She had electrocuted him. 

Not a single scream fell through his lips as he writhed in unimaginable pain, only because he refused to take a life. Tears brimmed in my eyes, seeing this. 

“Bring him to my chamber,” she viciously ordered and turned around, walking out of the Sunken Pit with her entourage of sentries. 

She was going to torture him again. 

The other sentries moved, dragging both of the warriors away. 

“Come,” Jazian dryly told me. I followed him, still carrying the tray. 

The roar of the crowd died down once we climbed the stairs. 

He took me towards another area of this hellish place. More posh, with gold statues, abstract paintings and grim decoration pieces adorning the corridors. A foreboding sense of evil resided there. 

A red door had the same sigil painted with gold. The serpent coiled into a ring shape with blood trickling from its vicious fangs into an open pit. 

I was still observing the sigil when a swishing sound of a whip and a heavy grunt came from inside, making my heart jerk. 

Jazian knocked on the door and was granted permission. He twisted the doorknob, and we entered the grim room. My hands shook with the thought of what awaited inside. The medical supplies rattled in the tray. 

Canara was standing behind her slave, holding a whip. His arms were spread on both sides and held by thick silver chains. Multiple Sentries held them. The bulging muscles in his arms were stretched, with veins protruding like cerulean tributaries. His dark hair still shadowed half of his face, but I could see the stiff jawline carved to perfection. 

Maliciously, she swung the whip. Air cracked and shrieked as the whip hissed through it and connected with his already wounded back. 

He grunted, holding his scream back. 

“You dare defy my order,” she viciously said, hitting him again and again. 

“Why?” The whip fell like lightning. 

“Why, I asked?” 

The stubborn male didn't cry out, didn't speak. He merely took the punishment in defiance. 

I bunched my lips together, trying to hold my own cries inside and not drop the tray. 

Her enraged eyes swivelled towards Jazian and me. 

She halted, her eyes narrowing at me. I gulped in fear. The slit in her irises was red, reminding me of a vicious serpent.

“You called for the attendant,” Jazian said, answering her unasked question. 

“Yes, once he apologises, she can treat him.” She turned her attention back to him, winding the whip slowly in her hand. 

Her long heel made no noise on the thick carpet as she moved and came to a halt in front of him. 

“Kneel at my feet and apologise for your misdemeanour, and I might have mercy on you.” Reaching with her perfectly manicured index finger, she placed it under his chin and raised his head. Her sharp nail dug into his skin. 

His ebony strands shifted from his face like black silk slipping through fingers. 

From the side, all I could see was the hard ridge of his jaw and sunken cheeks. 

“Bow!” She ordered with a wicked smile cutting across her face. 

A vein seemed to tick in his temple, and he jerked his face from her hand, slowly shaking his head. 

The grin disappeared from her face to be replaced by a savageness. Her lips turned upwards. 

“I am going to make you regret this. You love your ego.” Her cunning eyes maliciously turned towards me. “Let's see who you save her or your ego.” She clicked her fingers towards Jazian, and her evil smile widened. 

“Bring her here,” she ordered. “And strip her. I want my sentries to have fun with her.” 

I stiffened from fear in my spot. The tray finally dropped from my hands. The terror seized my limbs as I vigorously shook my head and tried to escape. 

“I know she is Caliath's new toy; let's see what's so intriguing about her.” She slithered back, leisurely occupying the sofa. One leg over the other and she leaned back in a relaxed position—ready to enjoy a horror show she had begun. 

Her maids handed her a champagne flute. She held it delicately between her fingers, her gaze wavering between me and her slave. 

Jazian’s grip tightened on my upper arm, dragging me forward. My mind went numb. 

“No, please.” I wriggled in Jazian’s iron hold. “I beg you…” 

Jazian dragged me in front of the chained man, pushing me roughly on the ground. My knees scraped; a cry tore out of my throat. 

He heavily strained, fighting the sentries heaving to keep him chained. 

“Let the show begin,” her amused voice came. 

My desperate eyes lifted and connected with his forest green ones, still curtained by his hair. A fury of wildfire they held like the forest had been set ablaze. Such intensity and yet a sense of calmness they possessed. 

“Please!” Tears finally rolled out of my eyes and his gaze softened like glades of grass. 

His gaze shifted from me to his mistress, and I sensed the change. 

“Let her go. Today I will show my appreciation in bed,” he grunted, the veins in his neck stretching as he struggled against the chains. 

Canara chuckled. “Now that's like my boy.” 

She dismissively clicked her fingers again.

“Leave us.” 

Her command had my heart easing, and I whispered to the stranger before Jazian dragged me away. 

“Thank you….” 

The stranger who saved me from being violated again and instead chose to sacrifice himself and his dignity. 

I understood what he meant by showing his appreciation in bed. Just like me, he was going to be raped too.