The Pit.

Draco.

“You are to sign to be my Luna in the open. In secret, you are nothing but a mere breeder. This contract is carefully drafted to ensure you do whatever is requested of you as the Luna of Abbator. You will publicly romance with me, make the whole of Bloomington believe we are nothing but lovers, but keep your distance in secret.” The words slowly dribbled from his mouth.

Isolde read the few words she could understand. However, it didn’t sit well with her. The contract practically stated that the lord would be the one to order her around.

Aside from the keeper in Kalingrad, no man had ever ordered her around or controlled her. Not even the masters she pleasured. Whatever she did in Kalingrad was in compliance with the keeper’s orders.

She hated that Draco was going to be the dictator of her life. Staring into his iridescent eyes that shone like blazing embers, she folded the contract and threw it at his feet.

“Over my dead body will I be your Luna. I can’t even stand the thought of being your breeder!” She stood toe to toe with him and growled. “I’ll never bear your child, you bloody monster,”

Draco’s expressionless face cracked with a lethal grin. Of course, Isolde noticed it didn’t reach his eyes.

The muscle in his jaw ticked as he crushed the parchment beneath his feet. “I have more of this parchment that bears the contract. I shall present it to you again when you have decided to bow at my feet as my Luna…” He stepped around her. Isolde hated the heavy aura he oozed. The aura that rooted her to her feet.

“But trust me, mouthy, you will be the one that will end up begging me to sign the contract by the end of tonight.”

“Hahaha. The monster keeps dreaming. I’d like to see you make me beg…” She said.

With his hands clasped behind him, Draco looked at her intently. The way her ripe lips whined made him want to stuff it full with his cock so she would never have a means of talking back at him.

He grimaced Inwardly when the bulbous crown of his phallus grazed the fly of his breeches. Ripping his gaze away from her, he clapped his hands.

The door creaked and fluttered open. The sentinels that barged in had a long chain collar in their hands.

“My lord,” they bowed.

Draco flicked one last look at her and ordered. “Chain her and bring her along for tonight’s show.”

With immediate effect, the sentinels began rounding Isolde’s neck with the collar. He heard her thrashing and bucking, spitting rapid-fire curses at the sentinels.

Draco lightly walked away from his study, walking through the long halls of the tower.

The chains and collar around her neck rattled as his men dragged her along. He heard the hisses she let out, and it goaded him. He had never taken pleasure in making someone suffer, not after passing through so much, but the female a few meters behind him sprouted the dark side of him he always kept a tight lid on.

They all walked down the flight of stairs, weaving through the male servants until they landed outside.

Isolde bashed her eyes closed at how bright the sun was. After being in the windowless, dark room, her eyes had gotten so adjusted that being out under the bright sun ached.

It took momentary effort before she fluttered her eyes open again. The castle ground was a hive of activity, and yet the lord kept walking ahead.

Isolde saw the way people bowed at the lord’s presence. They seemed to adore him.

“My lord, may your days be long!”

“May the spirits guide you,”

The people chanted at Draco, bowing. Draco, with a detached look, acknowledged their greetings while his massive frame strutted ahead.

“At least, I deserve the right to know where you are taking me to!” Isolde said, the strength leaving her. It was bound to happen, given she hadn’t fed well for a while now.

Draco ignored her question and kept moving. They passed through several alleys and narrow paths brimming with rocks that made Isolde stumble, but she was jerked back to her feet by the sentinels, until they approached a black brick-layered building.

A humorless chuckle left her lips as she stood behind Draco. “Is this supposed to be my new home?”

“No, mouthy. We are only here for entertainment.” He gave her a look from over his shoulder, smirking. “Let’s feast our eyes, mouthy.”

Draco walked through the doors of the building after that, and the sentinels tugged Isolde along.

Isolde’s heart dove into her belly as they saw the blood that painted the walls and floor of the building. Some were still fresh blood, while some were dried blood that was nearly brown in color. Everywhere stank, her belly rolled. Draco heard her breathless gasps of wonder.

When they burst into the crowd of males yelling and booing at something, her breath stopped a little.

Males that were massive and hunky brimmed the place. Some held tankards of ales, drinking until their minds mushed. Isolde choked on her breath when she finally managed to breathe upon seeing men fucking each other, slurping on the phallus of their partners or taking drawn-out strokes from behind.

Their harsh groans of pleasure zipped through the air while the sounds of their hips slapping together vibrated. Even amid their pleasuring state, they still roared as gladiators in the cage fought.

“Welcome to the Pit, mouthy. The core of Abbator’s life.” Draco hummed, casting her a look. Oh, he enjoyed the way blood drained from her face. It fascinated him.

For a whore like her, she must’ve seen males when they brutally take each other. It shouldn’t be a new thing to her, so why was her eyes blinking so fast as she watched the men drowning in pleasure as they fucked?

 Or was it the bloody gladiators that startled her, or the sight of drunk men puking and drinking as they roared to the gladiators?

“So? You brought me here to witness your males derive pleasure from each other?” She finally spoke, but there was a faint quiver in her voice Draco picked up on, and preyed on it.

With a toothy grin, he leaned in closer and hummed.

“Not exactly, mouthy…”

“Why do you even call me that?” She blurted in frustration. “For the record, it’ll never make me cave.”

He laughed at her ignorance. Then with a cocked brow, he asserted. “I have a better present that’ll make you cave, mouthy. One that you’ll love.”

Isolde called his bluff, snorting. However, her eyes widened in shock when the door at the back of the pit opened and the sentinels dragged in another female who was chained as she was.

The sentinels quickly pushed the female to the floor before the cage where the gladiators were fighting in, and she gasped. Her wide, scared eyes roamed around, and when Isolde saw those shaggy blonde hair and brown eyes brimming with tears, her heart stopped beating entirely.

It was her sister.

“Lucinda!” She shouted, but her voice was hardly audible in the pit. The shouts of males, the sound of powerful sensual thrusts, along with the bump of fists against fists, drowned out her voice.

Isolde forcefully bucked against the chains holding her still. “Let me go!”

Draco pretentiously turned and asked her. “Oh, you know her?”

Isolde growled at the dirty, knowing smirk on his face and roared.

“Let my sister go!”

TBC.