His Rules

Chaoter Eight

I woke up when heavy iron chains rattled violently against the floorboards.

My head was pounding with a deep, sickening ache from the Dragon King’s slap, and the bitter taste of dried blood coated my lips. I forced my heavy eyes open to see the carriage doors thrown wide. Cold, thin mountain air rushed into my lungs as two heavily armored guards grabbed my chains and dragged me out into the freezing night.

My feet dragged uselessly against the frozen cobblestones as I looked up. We were inside a massive fortress built directly into snow-capped peaks. The towering walls were made of black stone, illuminated by burning green torches that flickered against the dark sky. The air smelled of ash, iron, and a heavy predator scent that made my Fox instincts scream in terror.

The guards hauled me through massive metal gates, up winding stone stairs, and threw me onto the hard floor of a grand hall. My weak legs collapsed beneath me, the heavy iron collar around my neck digging painfully into my throat as I hit the ground.

At the far end of the hall sat the Dragon King on a raised throne carved from black rock. He wore heavy dark furs over his broad shoulders, his fiery amber eyes glowing in the dim torchlight like burning coals.

I pushed myself up onto my knees using my good hand, my chest heaving as I gasped for air. Even with dried blood on my cheek and a broken body, the raw anger inside me refused to die. I was tired of being dragged around. I was tired of being treated like a useless animal.

"Look at you," I rasped out, glaring straight at him through the filthy hair hanging in my face. 

"Sitting on a dark throne like a god, buying slaves because nobody could ever love an ugly beast like you."

A collective gasp echoed through the grand hall. 

The guards standing along the walls drew their blades half an inch, waiting for the order to kill me on the spot.

That actually drew his attention. He simply stood up from his throne and walked down the stone steps with slow, heavy strides. His intense predator aura flooded the room, so thick and scalding hot it made it hard for my Fox lungs to draw air. He stopped right in front of me, looking down at my bruised, dirty face with complete indifference.

"You have a very loud mouth for a weak little Fox," he said, his voice low and vibrating right through the stone floorboards. "I like that. It means breaking you will be far more entertaining."

He reached down with a heavy hand, grabbing the thick iron chain attached to my neck collar, and yanked it upward with brutal force. I was dragged off the floor, forced to stand on my shaky legs, brought face-to-face with his terrifying amber eyes.

"Listen closely, stray," He growled, his breath hot against my cold skin. "Because I am only going to explain the rules of this fortress once."

He held up one finger, his razor-sharp nail grazing against my cheek. "Rule one. You wake up before dawn. You will clean the main hall, scrub the stone stairs, and tend to every fireplace in this castle. If a single speck of dust is left when I sit on my throne, you will not eat for three days."

He held up a second finger, the tip of his claw pressing warningly into the soft skin beneath my jaw. "Rule two. You do not speak unless you are spoken to. You do not talk back to my guards, you do not make a sound in my presence, and you do not look me in the eye unless I command it."

He leaned in even closer, his thumb pressing hard against my bruised lip until I tasted fresh blood again.

"Rule three," he whispered, his voice dropping into a dark, possessive purr that made my skin crawl. "You are my toy now. Whenever I call for you, whenever I decide I want your body in my bed, you will be available. You will not fight me, you will not complain, and you will lie there and take whatever I decide to give you."

My blood ran cold, but the stubborn royal pride inside me refused to break. I forced myself to stare right into his glowing eyes. I scoffed “And if I say no?" I said smirking 

He let out a dark, quiet chuckle that echoed off the high ceiling. Then tightened his grip on my neck collar, pulling me so close our chests touched, his burning body heat radiating through my thin tunic.

"If you say no," he said softly, his tone flat and terrifyingly calm, "I will cut off your other hand, throw your broken mother into an iron cell back in Averon, and make you watch as I burn your home kingdom to absolute ashes. Do you understand me?"

Horror struck me right in the chest. He knew about my mother. He knew about Averon. He knew exactly where to strike to make sure I couldn't fight back. Tears of pure frustration and helplessness burned behind my eyes, but I swallowed them down, biting my tongue so hard.

He released my collar suddenly, letting me stumble backward and crash onto the stone floor.

"Take him to the lower servants' quarters," the Dragon King ordered his guards, turning his back on me as he walked back toward his throne. "Lock the iron cuffs around his ankles. His work starts at dawn."

“You wouldn't dare disobey me.” Trash