Isolde.
"I can't find it!" Isolde hissed, puffing out a string of hot breaths in frustration after not seeing the locket.
Where had she lost it? She wondered, rushing across to search the upper side of the fireplace, on the mantelpiece. Still, Isolde couldn't find it. Her precious locket.
It was a piece she held dear to her heart, and now it was gone. What dumb luck!
Isolde trailed back to her bed and slumped into it, gazing at the ceiling.
Seriously, her life had taken such a horrible turn since she came into this Abbator.
"The whole place sucks!" She bemoaned, clucking her tongue. "Even the people in it! Well, except for Carldo and Roga, every other person is an oaf, ugh!" She made some irritated noise at the back of her throat, running a hand down her face. "And I hate them all!"
She turned to her side, gazing out the window into the beautiful panoramic view of the horizon. Isolde was trying her best not to let the thought of the lord cross her mind. Unfortunately, that was all her mind could process at the moment.
The male that scared her, made her want to pee on her dress. Thoughts of him should be a forbidden one, yet Isolde couldn't deny the fact she was sort of attracted to him.
His words back in the courtroom echoed in her mind.
"Aim for my heart..." Those words seamlessly jarred her nerves.
Was he really inviting her to kill him? Because Isolde would gladly do it just to pay him back for killing her parents and taking her and Lucinda as captives.
Isolde dreaded failing to kill him again if another opportunity was given. Suppose she failed to get a damn dagger through his heart, then she'd end up dead like those pathetic males the lord had butchered.
She felt the dreadful chill spinning down her spine at how the lord had killed those males. He's a masochist! A psycho!
How could a man derive pleasure from killing his own men? Well, was she supposed to be shocked? Of course, if he could murder her family and link Lucinda's body with that of those gladiators in the pit, there was nothing the lord couldn't do.
He'd go to any length just to see his enemies killed or subdued. No wonder the other females in the wagon dreaded talking about him when Alfos was bringing them to Abbator.
While Isolde lay down on the bed, wild imaginations filled her mind. She imagined where she was in a room with the lord bound and strapped to a chair while she punished him. Again she imagined making him grovel at her feet, calling her mistress.
That would be fun; she'd make him lick her feet, her shin, her calves, and...
"Gods be damned, Isolde!" She leaped from the bed and cupped her hand over her mouth in shame. A blush colored her cheeks. "What are you thinking?" She chided herself, trying to disband the thoughts, but they were there.
She literally imagined having the lord paste his mouth between her hot legs as he licked her womanhood.
"No. No. No!" She stood and began to fan herself, hoping by doing so, she'd fan thoughts about him away. "You shouldn't be thinking that. You should think about killing him..."
"Killing who?"
Isolde gasped and twirled around only to see Roga standing by the door with a tray of a meal in her hand.
How long had the female been standing there?
"No one," Isolde rasped, straightening to face the older female as she strutted into the room and shut the door behind her. Sheepishly, Isolde beamed at her when Roga finished setting the tray on the table and turned to look at her.
"You're...sweating, my lady." Roga stepped close and handed her a handkerchief. Isolde took it from her quickly and dabbed at her face.
Great! Was it the thoughts about killing him that made her sweat or the other one where he licked...
"The lord demanded you feed well, my lady. The training would be an intense one."
Isolde's thoughts trailed off upon hearing Roga mention the lord.
"Excuse me? What did you say?"
Roga was confused by Isolde's question. Had the lady zoned out on her? Roga's brows creased when Isolde drew closer to her.
"You said something...about the lord?" Isolde emphasized. She wanted to hear it again. Gods be damned, why did she care anyway?
"About the lord?" Roga hummed thoughtfully, eyes narrowing until Isolde's question became clear she now blurted. "He said you should eat. Reports have it you've not fed so well lately. That you're becoming bony."
Isolde's heart leaped at Roga's words. Was he concerned about her? Not like she mattered to him. She was his toy of torture so, she was guessing the lord was only ensuring his toy didn't get spoiled before it was time for the real game.
'That's the reason I should kill him, for me, my parents, and for Lucinda,' She mumbled inwardly.
"I see. I've taken note of that, Roga." Isolde supplied as she headed to the table and looked into the food. It was a rabbit soup.
"I shall be on my way then, my lady. Carldo will be here early to help you prepare for your training..." Roga stopped mid-sentence and gasped, a hand pressed against her chest.
Isolde gave her a concerned look, narrowing her eyes. "What's wrong?" She asked Roga.
The older female looked terrified when she brought her gaze back to Isolde's.
"The lord is passing through the hall. I must wait for him to finish passing before I leave. I'm certain he's heading to master Edrand's chamber." Roga blurted.
Isolde cast a hurried look out the window and saw that dusk had belied the sky. That was when she remembered Edrand's invitation. If the lord was walking down this floor, that meant he was going to Edrand's room.
In time, Roga departed from the room, leaving Isolde in her world of scattered thoughts and wild imaginations.
Draco was down that hall with his lover, Edrand. The guy that stirred weird noises in her mind whenever she was within an inch of him.
'And the lord must be pleasuring him,' The voice in her mind supplied again, making Isolde lose her appetite.
She didn't care what they did, alright? The both of them could suffocate on their cocks for all she cared, she hissed inwardly.
Isolde tried to reach for the meat again when the voice murmured.
'Wouldn't you want to know what he looked like pleasuring someone!? At least you get to witness it before you kill him,'
"Hell's scorn!" Isolde cursed and dropped the cutlery in her hand and stood up, the seat scraping against the wooden floor.
Her mind warred between staying to maintain her dignity and going just so the voice in her head would be silenced. Unfortunately, the voice won.
Isolde surreptitiously held the door open and sneaked out. She had to be quiet so Edrand wouldn't know she came. With that, she powered her fluid movement until she halted before the male's door.
True to his words, he and Draco were pleasuring each other, limbs and lips tangled in a heated caress and kiss.
"My lord...you fuck me so good," Edrand's hoarse voice slipped into her ears, stirring her irritation.
No, she wasn't jealous. She didn't care about that murderer thrusting his cock into Edrand, Isolde told herself yet her heart caved.
She couldn't bear to stand there anymore, and she dashed down the hall and away from the castle. Isolde's feet carried her into one of the serene streets Abbator.
It looked more like an abandoned estate with an empty trail of houses devoid of life. That seemed to be the safest place for Isolde, and she moved into it, removing her hairpin to do what she hadn't done in so many years.
Her bones cracked, and a warbled cry of pain escaped her mouth as she fell to her knees. Her skin morphed into a curl of soft black furs just as her limbs turned into paws. In time, Isolde stood in the empty, abandoned estate in her lycan form.
A tear rolled down her face from the mind-numbing pain of the shift, and before long, she began to prowl the road that leads further into the abandoned estate.
TBC.