He said something, but I didn't hear it, or at least understand it. Baffled, I turned around myself and studied the room he led me to. My head is spinning out of control, almost to the point that I'm beginning to fear he is playing with my mind. This King is impossible to understand! One minute he talks about horrible science projects, showing me cells and glass cages like he is giving me a history lesson he is proud to know. Promise he will take me down to that horrid dungeon, and I swear I thought my freedom would end right then and there. But instead, he keeps talking, keeps pulling me down the hall, and now I'm here?
It doesn't make sense at all. The room is enormous! Two widows are showing off that magical view I saw earlier, a king-size bed filled with pillows of different sizes and colors. A beautiful and thick bedspread was neatly placed beneath all the pillows. The room had its own personal bathroom, and even from here, I could see the bathtub and the luxury details of gold and blue shimmering stones. What looked like a makeup table with a mirror, several colorful and beautiful paintings and pictures decorated the walls. This room looked nothing like the rest of the castle so far.
Speechless, I heard him talk behind me, but I didn't pay attention; I just kept staring. Trying to figure out if this really was what it looked like. So bright, almost cozy, and comfortable. It made me feel like I had walked into a different world, leaving the cold stone floors, dimmed light, metal bars, dungeons, and horror behind. Taking the last couple of steps around myself, I looked at the door again. With a smile, he said,
"This room was made for you back when you were promised as my mate."
And closed the door. He just closed it!
To make it even worse, I heard that distinct sound of the lock being turned, clicking into place. He locked me in. My heart started raging again, and I heaved for air, but all I managed were short, shallow breaths. Like the idiot I am, I started to go around myself again, looking around the room. It suddenly felt so much darker. The word Mate echoed in my head, and all I could think was; No!
Not again, this mate bond; everyone made it sound so romantic, so perfect, but it feels more like a life sentence. But it also confirmed my fear; I had been promised to someone. Given away to be someone's mate, his mate. And now I'm here, trapped, locked away in a castle far above the clouds. I had felt trapped in this world, forced to stay in a world I did not know or belong to. But this was so much worse, and I couldn't run away. I couldn't climb out the windows or sneak out the door because there was no way to leave this place. Not on my own, not alive.
Rushing over to the windows, franticly searching the wooden frames. Nothing, They can't even be opened! The sunlight had turned warm and dimmed, slowly making its way down, and the shadows of the bright room grew in each corner. With trembling fingers, I searched both windows twice. No locks, no handle. Nothing but a smooth wooden surface all the way around.
Feeling the panic rise in my chest, I turned my back to them, scanning the room again. The bright-colored paintings changed as the shadows stretched, spreading their claws inch by inch toward the middle of the room. The paintings felt threatening; the magic vibes and the bright colors dimmed down, revealing the horror hiding behind the sunlight.
My feet moved on their own, Ignoring the paintings, ignoring how it felt like their eyes followed me around the room with hunger. I searched the walls. My palms slid along the wall around the whole room before I rushed into the bathroom. No windows, nothing but a bathtub and a sink. Only cold and white tiles covered the entire room, quickly giving me a flashback to the white room. So clean and sterilized.
Stumbling back into the room, the lump in my throat grew. Losing control, losing myself. Whom have I been kidding? Without being able to think clearly, I walked around and around myself, franticly searching the room without really seeing anything. Just feeling the rushing sound fill my ears, the throbbing pain in my wrist grew to the point it felt like it would explode. I'm nothing in this world, nothing but an object. I have no power, no strength to defend myself. Nothing, I've been kidding myself all along. Thinking I could do this, thinking I had any means to make a difference at all. But it was all a lie.
I knew this; I always knew this. My mother told me every day my whole life, my teachers, neighbors, and other parents. I am worthless, weak, and naïve. Everything inside me shattered, it felt like something broke, and thousands of pieces fell like dust. There was nothing left to protect me, my walls were gone, and my mask faded into thin air. I haven't felt this small since I was a little girl, alone at night, hungry, cold, and scared. Hoping someone would save me, hoping my mother would come back and pull me into her arms and whisper that everything would be okay. But I knew it would not; nobody was coming, and nobody ever did.
So, I did just as I had done back then, curled up on the cold floor. I cradled my hurt wrist to my chest, curling up, making myself as small as possible. Eventually, the night would pass. The dark would change to light and the cold too warm, promising sunrays. Only this time, I knew it was nothing but a desperate dream.
I didn't care if I cried; it made No difference. Nobody would see or hear me anyway, and if they did, nobody would care. Tear after tear spilled over and down my cheek. Warm and wet, some found their way down the ridge of my nose and over my lips, eventually ending on the floor. Why did I allow myself to hope? To feel stronger or better in any way? To believe I could even make a difference. Thinking back to the Viking pack now, all I felt was an embarrassment. Maybe Toke had been right all along; what I felt meant nothing. What I meant or said, it meant nothing, Not here. Was it because of the promise of a loving family and a beast? To believe I would never be alone ever again, that for once I was safe and deserved happiness?
But they are not here now; I can't even be sure they ever were or if it had all been in my mind all along. Deceiving myself yet again. I hated myself for it; even now, all I wanted and needed was to be held. Like that clueless and naïve child, I used to be. The wish and need were so intense I could feel it. Feel the warmth seep through my cold skin as strong hands wrapped around me and lifted me up. Held me so close I could hear a heartbeat when I leaned my head to their chest. Weak, I've always been so weak. I just used to be better at hiding it, even for myself.
"Why didn't you tell me you were hurt? "
I cried even harder when I heard the voice; the grown-up I had always needed to come and find me. The voice represented all I had longed for so many times but eventually had denied myself even dreaming of. Calm, deep, and caring. Maybe I'm dying; why else would I get just what I needed?