The word of gratitude that had slipped through Zezi’s lips had been stiff and heavy.
It was about damn time.
Seriously, she was already starting to loss her patience and was already scared that doing as Gwen had suggested was giving her the opposite of what she wanted.
Great things did come to those who wait.
She had followed after him, down many stairs, with many guards behind them, holding up lit torches to light their way.
Zezi could smell the anguish in the air, the pain, the suffering and her heart ached the further down they went, to know that her family was within these dreadful walls or even worse, killed her.
Then they stoped, and took a path.
She could hear a whimpering.
Mira’s.
Her eyes grew glassy immediately, all her pretence shattering to the ground.
“My daughter–” she whispered with a gasp. “Mira.” She teared up, her face quickly turning into a mess.
She took a mindless step forward, ignoring the guard that moved behind her, as she held unto the bars that stood between them.
They burnt her with immediate effect, but she hung on, wanting to suffer just as much as family was.
Mira was chained to the wall with leather straps, her hands and legs spread apart. She looked so sick. So sick and so small.
Zezi had never seen her daughter like this.
Why was this King so wicked?
She rose her head up with tears in her eyes, her sight greatly dazed with absolute exhaustion.
What had they done to her daughter.
“Mum–” her voice trailed off with a forced shiver. “I’m cold.”
“Zezi–” a farmilar voice seeped through her ears and she snapped her gaze right to him.
In the small cell, on the other side was George. He was chained to the wall just like Mira, expect they had used silver, making only the bands around his wrists and his ankles, leather.
“Let the bar go,” he whispered, his voice so low, she could barely hear him. “You are hurting.”
Zezi bit her lips, looking down at her hands, the smell of burning flesh and blood hitting her nose.
Then she let it go and turned to the King, falling on her kneels, her head bowed and her hands spread flat on her thighs.
“I have come down on my kneels, begging, with absolute want for you, desperate craving and an irresistible need.” She paused taking in a ragged breath, salty tears by the corners of her lips. “You now have what you desire. Let them go.”
The King eyes went cold and his face stiff.
He knew what this meant and hated every bit of it.
A lie to his face.
What was she doing?
“Rise up on your feet.”
Her hands balled into fists on her thighs, with every word she spoke, she could taste her own blood.
They were heavy, they were knives to her heart but the sight of her family sent her own body shaking with deep felt sadness.
“I want you, your Majesty.”
“Stand up,” he commanded in a gruff.
“I feel like I might die if you do not take me!”
“My love… what are you doing?”
“The very need of you, the very crave. I cannot fight it anymore.” She looked up at him, holding his gaze, her eyes wild and her teeth a bloody smile.
She looked nothing short of crazy.
“Take me. Please.”
“Cease this nonsense at once.”
“Let my family go!”
It happened in a flash.
So fast.
One of the guards was nursing a clawed part of his stomach with a hiss, the rest with their swords at ready, the King looking like he had just seen something beyond him, all their attention was on Zezi, who had a dagger to her throat, her claws stained with blood of the guard she had stolen it from.
“This should be good.” She chuckled.
The King folded his arms at that moment, something like humor in his eyes.
Great. He thought she was bluffing.
She pressed the dagger further and drew blood.
At the sight of the red liquid, something in the King’s jaw ticked and his eyes darkened with rage.
“Drop it.”
An hysteric laughter. “I’d gladly die.”
“I will kill them, all of them.” He replied, immovably calm. “Kill these pathetic wolves, then bath in the blood of the rest that breathes…”
More blood.
More fainting pulse.
“Drop it.”
Her heart was racing. She was getting weak far too quickly. Why was she getting so weak already?
“My love… Pleas–”
“Shut up, George.” Her eyes were firm on the King, it was never a wise move to look away from the enemy. “You want me but if I’m dead you can’t have me.”
“I’ll turn you.”
She gulped at the thought. Waking up as something she hated? The Moon forbids. But she showed no fear, she had something to back her up.
“I’m a wolf. There a high chance I’d die anyways. We both know you don’t want that.”
She could feel herself going faint.
This dagger’s blade was made out of silver.
“Drop it, Zezi.”
Her body almost stilled at his mention of her name, almost yielded to his command simply because he was him.
Her mate.
“I want only one thing.”
Whatever sign he gave to his guards was very subtle, they put away their weapons and the next thing she could hear was the slacking and dropping of the chains.
As much as she wanted to look at her family, she didn’t. She couldn’t risk it. If she looked away from him, he would move fast and take this dagger from her.
She would just have to hold on, and stay not blinking.
She could hear Mira calling out for her, her husband’s painful groans as he picked up their daughter.
“Swear on–”
“On my honour, I swear that the wolves are now free, and that they may be led to the passage alive and unharmed from now onward.”
Don’t blink.
Don’t. Blink.
“My love.”
“Go.”
With a sigh, the King commanded, “take them there.”
In a flash, they were gone.
Time was starting to drag on, painfully.
It was starting to become an herculean to even stand on her own two feet.
Don’t blink.
But the blood she was losing, it was sending her head absolutely dizzy and heavy.
Don’t blink.
She could feel how it dripped down her neck into the arm of her white gown and the round neckline.
Don’t blink.
Despite the fact that the King had already promised their safety, she wanted to stay like this for as long as possible, hopefully till they would be in that car George had prepared at the other mouth of the cave.
Don’t–
The dagger got knocked out of her hand and instead of fighting, she fell backwards, right into a pair of strong open arms.
She was going faintly but she didn’t care, not until she heard the voices of those she thought she had set free.
Her heart tore apart, and tears welled up in her eyes, as she opened them to the one looking down at her.
“You swore on your honour.”
Her voice was so low with emotions and the weakness from the blood that she had lost.
His hand ghosted over her forehead, brushing her hair aside, his eyes hazy with something she had never seen before.
“I have no honor.”