My first taste of hell

Chapter 6

My first taste of Hell!

SERAPHINA

I was stunned at the Lycan King's audacity.

He really pushed me? How dare he? How could he push me into this room like I was nothing?

I sat on the cold floor, stupefied. My heart raced. I stared at the door as my heart thud loudly against my chest. I blink once, twice. Not only that, but I even went as far as cleaning my eyes, but it was real. The door was still closed and locked. I got up and rushed to the door, and my hands slammed against it over and over again.

“Lycan!” I screamed, fear punching a hole in my stomach. “Open the door! You can’t lock me in here!”

I waited a while, but nothing.

“Coward!” I screamed louder, banging my fist harder on the door. “You think locking me up will break me?”

Still silent.

I hit the door again, again, and again, then leaned my forehead against it. My fists burned from banging. But I didn’t stop.

How could he do this to me?

I looked around slowly. The room was full of dust and darkness. Cobwebs hung in every corner. The air smelled like something old, something long dead.

I covered my mouth with my sleeve and walked further in. My foot hit something, and I looked down and saw a torn pillow; the stuffing spilled onto the dirty floor.

I coughed and sneezed simultaneously. I stood in the middle of the room, turning around, trying to take it all in. This wasn’t a room. It was a disaster. I wondered how I was going to clean this room, but just as I opened my mouth to curse him again, the door slammed open. I jumped back, fists ready. But it wasn’t him.

It was a maid. She threw a broom, a mop, and a rag inside, and then the door slammed shut again before I could ask a single word.

I blinked. What the fuck? That was it. He wasn't going to let me out of here? He couldn't be kind enough to drop a flask of water and help. Just a broom, a mop, and a rag.

I walked to the pile and picked up the rag. I stared at it. It was thin and worn, but it was something at least. I looked at the room again and felt the sudden urge to throw up. If he thought this would make me beg, he was mistaken. I would never beg him.

I pulled my sleeves up, tied part of the rag around my face, and then I picked the broom.

“Fine,” I whispered to myself. “You want to break me, Lycan? You're going to try harder.”

I moved to the dresser, and made one swipe at it, but just that one swipe, and a cloud of dust flew into the air. I coughed so hard I bent over, and my eyes watered.

I proceed to open the window to allow ventilation and an easy route for the dust to escape. At first, when I pushed, it didn't move. Then I pushed harder again with all my might; it creaked loudly, then opened halfway. I couldn't help but moan as fresh air rushed in, and I breathed slowly, in and out.

And with that, I went back to work. I cleaned the floor, wiped the dresser, and swept under the bed. All this while my hands turned gray from the dust and my knees hit the hard floor over and over again. So many hours passed that I lost count of it, but I kept working, not pausing to rest. I moved about the room, cleaning, coughing, gasping, cursing Leone, and then cleaning again. My arms ached, fingers went numb, and feet felt like they were no longer mine. I moved to the windows next and cleaned it, wiped the walls, shook the sheet, and beat the dust out of the mattress until my back screamed in pain.

And finally, when I was done cleaning the room and had nothing left in me, I dropped my aching body to the bed and dozed off. I didn’t even remember falling asleep. My eyes opened minutes or hours later to find Leone standing above me, staring with a face void of emotions.

My heart lurched in my chest as I sat up fast, even though my brother screamed at me, but I forced it to obey.

I held his stare.

He stepped forward. “You must really want a room,” he said, his voice calm. “To clean this all by yourself?”

Silence.

He kept speaking. “To be honest, I didn’t think you could do it at all.” He smirked nastily. “So there’s a little bite to the bark after all,” he taunted.

I glared at him as I shrugged off his comment. “You know,” I tutted, “for someone who claims to hate me, you’re awfully in my space typically.”

His smirk faded and his eyes narrowed. He stepped forward again, but fast this time. Before I could tell what he was going to do and step out of his way, his hands shot out and wrapped around my throat. My eyes widened as he squeezed too hard enough to send a message and forcefully made me stay still.

His eyes blazed with fury. “Watch how you speak, wolf,” he hissed. “Or I’ll be forced to teach you a lesson.”

His grip tightened slightly, and fear crashed into me. He's going to kill me – my mind kept screaming at me. “And trust me, you won’t like my methods.”

"Le…" I stammered, unable to choke out the words, my face turning as pale as paper. I didn’t blink. I didn’t cry.

“You think choosing a room that’s far away from mine can save you from me?” he growled.

His breath touched my cheek. His eyes burned into mine.

“If I wanted to destroy you, distance is no barrier.”

He leaned in closer, barreling into my personal space.

“Need I remind you, werewolf, you’re in my territory, living under my roof.”

A wicked smile curved his perfect lips, and his hold on my neck tightened, choking me further. “You mean nothing to me,” he continued, his piercing blue eyes hooded in rage that I felt it burn. “Just a worthless entity breathing the same air as I do.”

He let go of my neck slowly, like he enjoyed the pressure. I rubbed my sore neck, gasping quietly.

“You should remember your place,” he added low and quiet as he turned and walked to the door. He stopped, hand on the knob, and looked over his shoulder.

“Enjoy this little luxury while it lasts.”

And then he left, slamming the door.

I stayed rooted on the bed, rubbing my neck slowly. The pain throbbed and my neck hurts. If I thought my wedding night was torture, then this...This was my first taste of hell in the hands of the Lycan monster.