Lyra's POV
Still in disbelief, I walked toward the lady who had just called me from the group, my confidence dwindled like a feather in a calm breeze, and my palm happened to dance with fright.
Stuck in enemy territory with no weapon and a somewhat dead wolf, the revelation about my traits only didn't make it any better. I might have blended well with the humans not because of the population but because there was truly nothing that differentiated me from them.
My identity was stolen, my place in the pack, my life. I remain a shell of who I used to be. Which should be a blessing in disguise, but I had no idea how to be human.
"Follow me." She commanded.
Unlike every human female I came across today, she wasn't petrified or stunned, the lady whose eyes were as blue as the ocean that wedged the containers and skin as silky as sap was older than all the women here.
If I didn't already understand the lifespan of humans. I would say she was a hundred wolf years. But she wasn't she looked 50 human years old, if my calculations were right. 5 wolf years.
I regarded her with utmost curiosity and surprise she was the first human I had seen comfortable in the capital.
She knew her way around each corner, and everyone that passed happened to lower their head as they approached.
Her grace and confidence were all I needed to know she wasn't a recent slave. Makes me wonder which time she was abducted. And why was she spared? So many questions hung on the tip of my tongue, but talking to one human wasn't a go-ahead to openly converse with all.
I was led to a room, where a desk and some metal tools sat, and then made to lie on it while she swabbed my mouth with cotton and demanded I remove every piece of clothing given to us by the men on the ship.
"Open your legs." Her hands shape between my thighs, forcing them open. I had never had my back on the ground for anyone. A back-to-the-floor was a sign of surrender and defeat.
I was defeated and scared as worry blossomed in my heart. I reached out for my wolf again, but still nothing.
"Virgin?" she muttered before pulling back.
"That's weird. For a lady your age. You should have had a lot of lovers… rare." Her eyes met mine
She pulled me by my hands into the passage, where I was met by a male dragon who easily towered above me. He smelled of warm ember and charred wood, a regal scent among dragons.
"She's a virgin, Lord Kealith. Do you think she can handle him? Lord Draziel is strong he would need a lady who knows what she is doing." That name, Draziel, rang an alarm in my mind.
Draziel Vorax—every wolf who had lived after the era of his father The mad dragon lord knew him, he was the ruler of the Veyrax capital. The strongest dragon presently alive… My knees weakened.
All the historical records of him showed he was dead. He died! A hundred years ago! The story was clear. He died trying to escape Evermore. The moon goddess struck him with a bolt of lightning stronger than any ball of fire, even for a fire breather. And he died.
His remains were never found he was turned to dust. Same with both of his diabolic siblings.
It was rumored that his beast could spew flames hot enough to burn an entire pack in mere seconds, his flames as bright as the sun. No one should hold that much power, not in this life… if he were alive till now, even my imagination could not fathom the power he must have.
Tears wet my eyes. If he finds out I am a wolf, he would rip me limb from limb, even the slightest trace, he would burn me alive… Goddess, please…
Cold, hard hands pet my jaw as the man pulled my chin to meet him, his pupils were blood red, like a ball of lava settled in them. His face was beautifully designed with scars and marble blue scales,he was a lord.
The mark of royalty on his wrist confirmed it. A purebred descendant of the Vorax bloodline. He was Kealith Vorax, little brother to the mighty Draziel, he too was supposed to be dead.
The close proximity with such evil threatened my fate. I had begun to cry a few seconds after his hands met my chin, defenseless before his kind was death. Never in my twenty-five years did I imagine I would ever be brought before a Vorax descendant.
He stared deeply into my eyes, clouded with tears, a smug smile on his lips as his hard thumb caressed my jaw.
"She's a beaut. I bet Draziel would be fascinated to wake up in a room to see her standing naked." He left my jaw, and my knees gave way. I fell before him, my entire body quivering in fear.
"Lord Kealith. I don't think Lord Draziel would appreciate this prank. He might kill her, we can't risk this woman's life." The lady who had picked me said,for the first time, I truly side with a human.
Whatever the game was. I would rather be tied and thrown into the most treacherous sea than stand before Lord Draziel. I would die by a bee sting and forfeit my glory rather than be before him.
"We don't harbor you to ask questions, Maryam. Do as I command!" Kealith yelled. I felt my body shake under his thunderous voice.
"Take her to him this night! Is that clear?"
"Very clear, Lord Kealith." I was pulled from the floor, helpless and vulnerable. Was this the part where they sell my soul to the dragons? as a sex slave? Were the dragons playing 'pranks' with humans for sex?
Taken to the multitude of ladies in the room, I was made to sit at a far end like a sacrifice that I had suddenly become. Among so many ladies, why me?
"You are quite an unfortunate young lady." She said before leaving me with the rest. Still smitten by shock, I stared at the door being closed behind the caretaker.
"What's wrong? You look like your death sentence was pronounced." Alisha whispered in her usual playful tone. But this time, words failed me; I had nothing to say. She must have noticed my reluctance, then pulled my head to her thighs so I could rest. Tears slid down my face to the floor.
My little moment in solitude drove me back to Silverfangs, my home. Lannister would tell the people that I died as a result of battle, and he would silence my armies, who knew for a fact that I led them back safely and in health.
My father would be dead, he was already dying by the time I came back. Somehow I could finally see clearly. He never came back because he was scared we wouldn't be successful he came back because he was a coward who wanted me to win the war for his reign.
He knew I would return victorious regardless, and he poisoned me upon arrival. I should have seen it in his eyes, I should have doubted his smile right after the humiliation, but in those moments, the person I saw was none other than the person who shared the same face as I do and the same ash used in creation. We came into this world together, and somehow he chose a worse fate than death for me.
I wonder if he just sold me out or if he knew about this trade all along.
~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~
Hours later, it was dark outside, the caretakers had commanded that we take our bath, we were fed freshly prepared human food, and then we were given clothes to wear—well, everyone but me. I was singled out after taking my bath. I was given a robe, which I wasn't permitted to wear yet until I was fed and properly cleaned.
The caretaker, Maryam, had taken it upon herself to shave, bathe, and coat me in nice body lotion. She sprayed strong perfumes all over me and fed me grapes and pineapples rather than the oil-based meat and soup served to the rest of the humans.
Just like me, she was scared. I could tell when someone feared for their life, her usual grace had been beaten down by silent prayers and her frequent pitiful glances. Ones she has said. 'How can a lady be this beautiful yet so unfortunate?' If only she knew how unfortunate it was.
I might have lost my features, but the dragons only needed a whiff to behead me.
From the information gained from her conversation with Lord Kealith. I could tell Draziel wasn't a fan of human women. And he doesn't like pranks either. I could imagine him sitting on his throne made of bones, and his eyes as hot as the sun, waiting for bait. And I imagine seeing true evil as the last sight before death.
"There, little one," Maryam said as she wiped my mouth clean. She stared at the window with longing. It was already dark, and most of the ladies had been given a place to sleep.
"The Lord must be fast asleep now." She said. "Do you remember what I said? Say it."
"Walk into the room, with my lamp close to my face. Pull my robe with one of my hands, and kneel with my head bowed. I should tell the lord I am a gift for his hard work." I said without a stutter.
"Perfect." She said, amused by her work. Beside me sat a fruit knife. I took it from the plate and then hid it beneath my thighs. I might not have a wolf anymore. But I started fighting before I ever got a wolf. If I must die here, then I will die knowing I fought a dragon lord with my last strength.
And as the old saying goes:
"By the blood of my ancestors, I will face the storm of steel and fire! If today is my last, let my howl echo through the halls of Fólkvangr, and may the gods tremble at the fury of a wolf unchained! Prepare yourselves—either we claim victory or become legends in the stories of old!"