How I love my prey

Isolde.

The rule was simple—submit to the male assigned to you, please him in whatever manner he desires, or die.

 The keeper’s instructions rang in Isolde’s mind as she stood before the crowd of males that had infiltrated the brothel. Males that screamed danger. The whispers from other Blossoms, the females trained by the keeper to provide pleasure to men, were that these males here arrived from the North, which meant the men were from Bloomington, the land of blood and gore.

Bloomington was occupied by rogue lycans and demons, and from the looks of it, the men that littered the tavern were demons.

They hollered with glee, clinking their tankards together as they drank ales and bid on the Blossoms lined up on the stage. Isolde clasped her hands together just like the others, reciting the keeper’s instructions all over again in her mind.

“Thirty gold coins for the redhead,” Another of the males rose up and bid. Of course, no one beat him to it. And like he demanded, the male took the redhead, Rinna. Isolde recognized her during their training.

Rinna shivered and strutted ahead to meet the male who had paid to have her. The trembling of her body was a telltale sign of how scared she was. Isolde winced when she saw the male brutally clenching Rinna’s mound. A deep grunt of satisfaction escaped his lips.

His fellows cheered him on when he tucked his hand at the back of Rinna’s hair and fisted hard enough to arch her head. Releasing a snarl, he smacked his lips on hers, kissing her hard and forcefully, Rinna could hardly endure.

Isolde heard Rinna’s grunts of pain and shuddered. That was what they’d been suffering for ages now. Pains in the hands of men who thought of them as lesser beings. When Rinna got dragged away by the male into one of the rooms in the inn, Isolde’s eyes watered.

The bidding continued with boisterous laughter drowning out the music sung by the group of singers in the corner. The keeper stood by, calling out the prices as if all the Blossoms were commodities to trade on.

“A hundred pieces of gold for the raven-haired,”

Isolde’s heart stopped racing when she heard the man in a black robe bid on her. A hundred pieces of gold was absurd! How could someone pay for such an amount of money just to have a female give him pleasure?

When the man stood, Isolde gave him a once-over and right then she knew this man here was danger. The kind of danger she needed to run away from. His dark eyes met hers and she cowered under his penetrating gaze. He gave her a devouring look that made her skin prickle.

Isolde felt her heart hammering with beads of sweat coating her skin.

“Lord Draken, you’ve bid on the most special Blossom,” The keeper hummed with a pleased grin on her face. She ran her eyes over Isolde and nodded her head. “Go, Isolde, attend to the Lord,”

Isolde moved on trembling legs until she stood before the lord. He smelled like death and it rumbled her belly. Even though her instincts screamed to escape, Isolde didn’t know how to accomplish that with all these males here, seemingly protecting the lord.

While her heart quivered, Isolde still complied, letting the lord caress her skin, run his hand down the nape of her neck, over to her navel.

The bindings on her chest tightened against her skin as the man’s hand skimmed over them before reaching for the subligaria tied around her waist. She felt too exposed around him. Too handicapped.

“You have such a pleasant body, Blossom,” The lord growled, his pungent breath wafting over her face. “And it shall please me to have such a pleasant body underneath me tonight,”

Lord Draken landed his callused fist on her bicep and without mercy, he dragged her along the hall to the inn while his men roared and clapped their hands.

Shallow breaths made it out of her mouth as the lord dragged her through the hall of the inn. Their footsteps groaned over the floor. Isolde shuddered at the cries of other Blossoms seeping out of the rooms they were in.

As they passed by some of the rooms, she heard the sound of whips landing on the Blossoms’ bodies while in the others, she heard the brutal slap of skin against skin and the helpless cries of the Blossoms for freedom from their pains.

The keeper had told them that some males love pain and they were meant to serve their masters in whichever manner they choose. Though Isolde knew all these, the thought of having to pass through it again tonight scared her. And from her quick observation, Lord Draken seemed to be the type that preferred a dose of pain.

“Ahh,” She whimpered as she crashed over the wooden floor when Lord Draken pushed her into the room.

He stepped inside and slammed the door behind him. The floorboard creaked under his weight while he pinned his dark eyes on Isolde. Eyes brimming with evil.

“Master…” She kneeled before him, cowering. That was how the keeper instructed them to acknowledge their master.

“You’ve been taught well, Blossom. So vulnerable just the way I love my prey,” He stepped into her space and seized her chin, pulling Isolde’s head up. His thumb glided over her lips and a smirk curled his. “Let’s see what this mouth can achieve. If you serve me well, I shall double the keeper’s pay,”

She nodded, letting him believe he’d have her. Isolde’s mind ran a mile a minute as she thought of the easiest way to escape this session of pain.

In the depth of her mind, Isolde knew there was no evading the pain as long as she was in this brothel. Hence, her only bet at evading the pain was to flee. To escape the four walls of Kalingrad.

At that moment, a thought came to her. Maybe it might not be the best, but she was willing to try. After serving for years as a Blossom in Kalingrad, it was time Isolde made her escape.

“Rise,” Lord Draken ordered and with boldness, she stood. She was half his height and yet Isolde was willing to fight the lord if she had to.

He took a look at her features and swooped down, claiming her lips as he caressed the mounds of her breasts aggressively. Isolde complied, letting the lord devour her while she skimmed her hand down his waist.

Her fingers ran over the scabbard leashed around his waist, and tentatively, she pulled out the lord’s dagger.

Lord Draken lost in lust, noticed a second too late as Isolde stabbed into his side.

“You cunt!!!!” He roared, hobbling on his feet as blood splurged from his split ribs. A wince filed out of his mouth while Isolde watched the crime she had committed, blood coating her palms.

Blossoms were not allowed to hurt even a bird talk more of their masters, but she had hurt her master and if his men were to come alongside the keeper, Isolde’s life would be in danger.

“Agholf! Warren!!” Lord Draken roared, staggering toward her.

He was calling on his men, Isolde realized. She quickly snapped out of her daze, only to see Lord Draken trying to topple her.

Without wasting a minute, Isolde sank the dagger into his palm. She bolted for the window while the lord roared in pain, spitting curses at her.

Stepping over the ledge, Isolde jumped down a second before Lord Draken’s men ventured into the room.

“My lord…” The men stuttered at the sight of Draken. The keeper barged in, yelping when she saw the bleeding lord.

“Heavens, my lord…” She quivered as Lord Draken spat at her.

“You cunt made me believe she’ll give me the most pleasure! Is this it? Your twisted form of pleasure? A dagger to my ribs and palm!?” He roared and smacked the keeper on the face with his bloody hand.

The woman crumbled on the floor, crawling away as she pled for her life.

It was a huge slap to the lord’s face that he was overpowered by a mere female and he swore not to let Isolde escape from his clutches.

Turning to his men with fire burning in his depths, he declared, “Go find her!”

“Yes, my lord,” The men nodded in unison and fled out of the inn to hunt for Isolde.

Isolde raced through the woods after stabbing the guard at the gate of Kalingrad enough to disorient him. This was the first time she made it out of Kalingrad in over ten years. The first time she wasn’t being controlled by the keeper or master.

Right now, she’d be damned if she ever let the keeper catch her. Knowing the lord would send his men after her, Isolde bolted as fast as she could through the dark woods, searching for the safest place to hide. Her bare feet brushed through the underbrush, twigs sinking into the soles of her feet, bruising her.

She yelled in between but cupped her hands over her mouth when she heard the men racing after her.

They were following her trails and scent. Isolde had heard the stories about the sharp senses of demons from the other Blossoms, and in order to mask that, she turned and plucked the banehush leaves beside her.

Crunching the leaves together in her palms, she rubbed it on her skin. Taking refuge behind a boulder, she watched as Draken’s men sauntered past her.

With the men gone, Isolde went north, trudging and covering her trail as much as she could. The humid air in the woods clung to her skin. She held on, seeking shelter. She was hoping to arrive in a village but unfortunately, Isolde found herself edging to a lake.

Her feet drew a sharp halt as she stared long and hard at the water. She barely knew how to swim. She contemplated heading south but the footfalls echoing behind her informed the arrival of the men chasing after her.

“I’ve found her trail!” One of the men’s voices roared. Upon getting a wind of that, Isolde lunged for the lake.

Without a second thought, she dove into it and began swimming, sinking deep into the water just as the men emerged.

Their eyes scanned the area for Isolde but couldn’t find her. Isolde, with struggles, reemerged onto the surface, hacking coughs as she waded through the water as much as she could.

“There!!! She’s in the lake!” Warren hollered, pointing in Isolde’s direction.

 They should have gone after her and swim until they caught her but unfortunately, Isolde had swum into their enemy’s territory.

The territory of alpha Draco, the cursed rogue lord of Abbator.

TBC.