Monster

Kaelra swallowed the fearful whimper tingling in her throat and looked down at her clothing. She was clean. Well, as clean as she could get on the frontier, but it was all well-mended. Big on her, yes, but everyone’s clothing was hand-me-down, and hers was from a few warriors who had died months ago.

He snarled and grabbed her arm. “Get in here before someone sees you for fuck’s sake!”

Kaelra didn’t try to fight, stumbling after him. He shoved the door closed and dragged her through the room toward a door on the far side of the foyer. The room was opulent, trimmed in gold and decorated in warm green tones. Every surface seemed to gleam as if freshly polished.

It reminded her of all the expensive decorations back in Hollowfang’s clan house.

“You were told his preferences. Do you think this is acceptable? Are you that stupid?”

She shrank into herself at his harsh tone. “This is all I—”

“Excuses!” He hissed. “And your fucking hair. You’d better hope Velessa has something that can fix this. What man wants a bald wife?”

“Kae—”

He shoved her against a door, snarling. “Don’t you dare address me so informally. It’s Heir Hollowfang to you.”

Kaelra didn’t move, blinking. Stunned. Unable to think or breathe around the malice radiating off of him. When had he grown to hate her? She grew stiffer as she scented a much darker scent. She peered into him, through his skin and bone to his core, where rivulets of darkness snapped and twisted, diving and burrowing into his magical soul.

Her brother was tainted. She pressed herself against the door, her hand gripping her bag tightly. Mind racing. How? He should have been at St. Vale Academy or in a Consortium territory behind a barrier.

“The banquet starts in half an hour—”

A door opened, and a voice cut him off.

“Kaelen, lower your voice.”

Ice flooded her veins. The voice was low and menacing. It had been ten years since she’d heard it, but she recognized it. Her whole body tensed until she couldn’t even breathe.

Don’t look at him.

She forced her eyes to the ground, then squeezed them shut until they almost hurt.

Don’t look at him.

“Look at her, Father.” Kaelen yanked her away from the door. She leaned back, pulling against him, not willing to be any closer to him or that voice. “There is no spell to fix this.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Kaelen. There are many remedies for such a simple thing. Velessa, are you ready?”

Another door opened, and Kaelra flinched.

Don’t look.

Velessa let out a haughty scoff. “I thought you cut supplies to the frontier years ago. She seems to have been fed more than a pig for slaughter.”

Velessa cackled. Kaelra’s stomach lurched. Her lungs burned, desperate for air, but she couldn’t breathe. She reached for that quiet, safe place in her mind where nothing hurt and no monsters lurked. She could almost hear her mother singing, but it would not come.

Her throat closed with panic. The silence screamed in her ears. She had forgotten what it was like to actually be in the same room with him, breathing the same stifling, hateful air he expelled. The way his very presence resurrected every dark day and blurry memory, calling it to claw up from the back of her mind in a symphony of mocking laughter and low moans.

Her legs were stone-heavy.

The scent of liquor drifted towards her, sweet and tinged with that awful scent of lit tobacco and rotting flesh. She gagged, trying to push through the swirling haze of memories she could taste and feel like greedy hands on her waist, swiping at her to drag her to the floor.

“Well, I suppose it is just fine… Brokenfang’s heir is more brute than man. Better to lure him with his cock as she has nothing else to offer, don’t you think?

Velessa sounded bored and amused, but the silence was stifling.

“Do you have anything for her hair?” Kaelen asked.

“There’s no potion that would fix that mess. He’ll just have to wait until it grows out.”

“Kaelen, take Velessa to see the High Matron of Evengrace and procure a hair tonic. I will deal with her.”

“As you wish, Father.”

Kaelra’s eyes popped open. Her head jerked up as Kaelen released her. She reached for him with a plea on her lips. In its place, a strangled whimper of panic and fear escaped.

She caught sight of him. His stillness unnerved her. Still, as a predator listening for its prey, waiting to pounce, but he wasn’t waiting for someone to come.

He was waiting for Kaelen and Velessa to leave.

Another whimper crawled up her throat. He was older now. Time had carved wrinkles in his face, but had not softened his eyes. They seemed only hungrier. A starving void reached out from his eyes, planning to swallow her whole. The covetous tilt to his lips was just as cruel and sickening as it had been all those years ago.

The world melted and swam in her vision, flickering as sparks of darkness emanated from him. The shadows hummed and grew, devouring the opulence of the room, time and space like her own Wretched Choir, but there was no one to call to fight it, no barrier that would hold.

Commander?

Kaelen crossed the room in quick strides to reach Velessa, draped in a shimmering blue gown with a train that flowed like water under the starry sky behind her. Kaelen cupped the small of her back, ushering her out the door. Intimate. Loving. And completely out of sight of her father.

Kael?

The door slammed behind them, cutting her off and leaving her alone with her father.

He watched her. She strained her ears for someone who might hear her scream. All she heard was fading footsteps. She was running out of time. She stumbled back. Her hand fell on the doorknob behind her and twisted.

Her hands shook. She swallowed and swallowed, but her mouth was as dry as paper. He tracked her across the room, still perfectly immobile. Waiting. The rotting stench grew stronger. A knowing, amused, vicious glint appeared in his eyes. It was the only sign of life and consciousness in them.

The windows were too high to jump. He was between her and the door. Her best option was to get into one of the rooms attached to the suite and try to barricade the door, if not escape.

She couldn’t breathe, drowning in panic as she tried door after door: locked, locked, locked.

She couldn’t hear Velessa or Kaelen’s footsteps any longer.

Trapped.

The room started to shrink around them as she focused, watching his nearly black core expand in a snarl of darkness, surfacing on his skin in deep obsidian veins bleeding up from beneath his collar. The whites of his eyes turned pitch black. She gagged at the rotting stench filling the room. He hummed softly, compelled by the Wretched Choir that inhabited him to lend his voice to it.

“We have a lot to talk about, don’t we, little witch?”