Isolde.
The floor of the courtroom was covered with blood, the liquid thick and red. The chairs had sprinkles of it, but hanging from the high ceiling of the room with a long chain were seven dead bodies, seven dead males. Some had their faces battered beyond recognition, while others had their skin torn into pieces. The remaining ones had their bellies slashed open, their bowels spilling out.
From the faces of those she could see, Isolde remembered those males. They were the same males she saw the lord addressing on the castle ground the day before.
He killed them.
Her stomach roiled with disgust, and without meaning to, Isolde doubled over and began to puke. She felt the lord inch to her side and grasp her hair, pulling it away from her face.
"There you go, little bird. Let it all out," he crooned in a dark, murderous voice. And Isolde shamefully did, horror blanketing her core.
She couldn't believe her eyes. This man was evil. How could he have taken pleasure in shredding those men?
Her eyes bled with tears of fear when she was done puking and stared at the lord.
She couldn't see his face, but she felt his smirk, showing from the glint in his blazing depth of mismatched eye colors.
"You..." She tried to speak, but no words made it out. How long did it take him to make a piece of gory art out of these males?
What did they ever do to deserve such a death? The thoughts made Isolde dizzy, her feet swayed. No matter what those men did, it didn't warrant such a horrible death.
"I see you marvel at the works of my hand," he intoned, his voice filled with glee. Strong hands rested on her shoulders and twisted her enough to stare back at the carnage. "It didn't take long to carve out this beautiful piece out of them, mouthy."
She squirmed in his arms, hating the lilt in his voice. This man here was deranged, mindless. As if he could read her thoughts, Draco hummed.
"Only someone as mindless as I am would create such beautiful art, little bird," Draco said, tracing her skin with his dagger, the very one he'd used to butcher the males.
Chills skittered across her body at the feel of the steel. She was afraid he'd sink it into her skin and make art out of her, but Draco pulled it away, moving her hair enough to whisper into her ear through the helmet.
"You see, these males had a mission but failed. This one here," he pointed at the first man with a battered face. Isolde didn't want to look, but he pushed her head in that direction. Then. "He aimed at my knees, slicing them open."
She shrieked, her heart palpitating. "These ones," he pointed at the ones with their bowels spilling out and splattering over the floor. "They aimed for my spleen. Ahh, that was no fun at all," he groaned.
Draco pointed at the others, groaning. "And these ones aimed for my eyes and my head..."
"Why are you telling me all these?" Tears filled her vision, and her lips wobbled when she spoke. Her wet lashes fluttered as Draco pulled her gaze up to his.
For a moment, he didn't speak. He just stared at her through the helmet. Isolde thought he'd stop the mind torture, but her hope crashed when his eyes glinted again.
"Because you, little bird, want to take my life, don't you?" he said and circled to her back. Her skin prickled when the steel of his helmet pressed into the underside of her ear, tickling her skin before his words came. "I'm telling you, mouthy, so that next time, you'll aim for my heart."
He pulled away and walked to the dais, settling on the majestic seat that could've served as the throne. His large body occupied every inch of the golden seat. He perched a finger under his chin after removing the helmet from his face.
Isolde forgot how to breathe for a minute at the sight of his devastatingly handsome face and pointed nose.
"As long as my heart beats, little bird, I'll not stop haunting you. Until it's time..."
Isolde's throat worked at his words. It was him, the shadow in her nightmare. Did he know he haunted her dreams?
Isolde held in her breath and began to back away. She half expected the lord to stop her, but he didn't. Speedily, she spun on her heels and bolted for the door.
He laughed at her as she ran and panted for breath, her long, dark hair flailing in the air. His dark laughter followed her out of the courtroom and into the halls.
Isolde didn't stop to catch her breath, no. She ran, her mind frazzled at the things she just saw. While she bolted up the stairs to her chamber, her body bumped into someone.
She squealed and held her temple, rubbing away the pain.
"Forgive me, male..." she muttered blindly and tried to shoulder past the person, only for his sturdy hand to grip her wrist, halting her in her tracks.
Stunned, Isolde turned and beheld those silver eyes she saw yesterday. It was him.
Edrand.
"So, you're the soon-to-be Luna," were his first words as he pulled closer, studying her. His hand flipped her hair up, inspecting its silkiness.
"Do not touch me!" she barked, trying to step away from him.
"And what right have you to make such a demand?" Edrand growled, pushing her against the wall. Isolde bucked against him, which only made him laugh. "Here in the tower, in Abbator, you're to bow to me. I do not care if you're going to be the Luna."
"Let me go!"
"Or what?" Edrand taunted, his face glowing with a smile. "You don't have what it takes to beat me, female. Not the strength. And certainly not the body..."
She stared into his eyes, the noise going off again in her head.
"Dracolian is keeping you for the time being. Temporarily. Until you end up like the others. And then he'll come back to me and take my cock like the greedy beast he is."
Hearing that last part spiked Isolde's heart with anger. She felt the same way yesterday when Edrand blatantly kissed the lord.
Why was she feeling like that? She wondered, hating that she felt that way.
"Ah, I bet you're wondering what his cock tastes like, aren't you?" Edrand loved the look of bitterness on her face, savoring it with his eyes. "Unfortunately, I'll be the only one that truly knows what it feels like to have a male like him thrust his powerful cock inside me."
"Enough...!" she yelped, trying to pull away, but it was nearly impossible.
"No, no. Don't try to run now," he tsked, shaking his head. "If you want to see what it feels like having the lord atop me, come to my bedroom tonight. The door will be ajar, and you can see for yourself how the lord eats me whole, hmm?" he grinned when he finished talking.
Isolde gulped in breath hastily when he let go and began to trail down the stairs, her wide eyes watching him as she panted.
She couldn't believe what he'd just said. Was he seriously trying to make her watch them pleasure each other?
As Isolde watched the male's retreating form, her eyes landed on the nape of his neck where a red birthmark was.
Isolde's heart stalled at the sight.
That mark, it looked so familiar.
Where had she seen it before?
Her eyes were wide as she thought deeply on it. Something told her she'd seen that mark before. She just couldn't point out where.
TBC.