Night fell over the room. Kalliope stared around, feeling lost. Every girl dreamed of being with Prince Kieran, but she didn't want him - she wanted freedom.
Just days ago, she was living with her family. Now, she was his captive, an enemy slave.
Her secret could kill her if discovered. She had to escape, but the palace was heavily guarded.
"How will I get out of here?" she thought, her mind racing with worries.
Eventually, sleep took over, but her heart remained restless.
*
The next morning, gentle voices woke her.
"Milady, wake up... Queen Ember instructed us to prepare you for dinner last night, but you slept through," Lyrixa said with a soft smile.
Brixa stood beside her, holding a stunning gown of silk and lace in soft blue hues, while Lyrixa carried a steaming silver tray with breakfast.
Kalliope rubbed sleepy eyes and sat up eagerly. "What's the plan for today?" she asked.
*
Lyrixa and Brixa escorted Kalliope through the palace, showing her its beauty:
Dragon statues stood guard at every corner, their scales glinting in the soft light.
The walls were made of white stone, inlaid with precious jewels that sparkled.
They walked through the Grand Hall, where pillars supported a ceiling painted with scenes of ancient battles and magic.
Ancient drawings on the walls depicted dragons, warriors, and sorcerers casting spells.
Kalliope smiled in wonder, "This palace is lovely."
As they walked, people's stares intensified, and whispers spread:
Maids and servants exchanged glances, murmuring behind fans or hands.
One bold maid, Viviana, spoke loud enough for Kalliope to hear:
"She's too weak for his purposes – all this hype for a mere sex slave?"
Kalliope pretended not to hear, but her eyes narrowed slightly.
Lyrixa and Brixa followed her lead, maintaining neutral faces.
But Viviana continued rudely:
"I don't think she will last a week"
Kalliope stopped walking and turned to Viviana, her voice icy:
"You should worry about your own tongue, not my fate."
The hallway fell silent.
Just then, a gentle yet authoritative voice intervened:
"What seems to be the disturbance here?"
A elegant lady with long, curly brown hair and a kind smile stepped forward, her eyes scanning the scene.
She stood tall, dressed in royal attire with intricate silver embroidery, resembling a princess from ancient tales.
Her honey-kissed skin glowed warmly, contrasting with Kalliope's porcelain-like complexion.
Viviana and the other maids, including Brixa and Lyrixa, bowed deeply, acknowledging her superior status.
Kalliope remained standing, perplexed, until Lyrixa whispered:
"Milady, this is Princess Calista Blackmoon, of the Lunar Wolf Pack."
Lyrixa's voice barely above a breath added:
"She is... mated to Prince Kieran's wolf side."
Kalliope's eyes widened in shock – Prince Kieran had a mate already?
Princess Calista's gaze met Kalliope's, her expression a curious smile.
Kalliope quickly bowed her head, acknowledging the princess's royal status.
"You are the new... slave here?" Princess Calista asked, her eyes scanning Kalliope from head to toe.
Kalliope nodded respectfully, maintaining a submissive demeanor – for now.
"Your name?" Princess Calista inquired, her voice gentle yet commanding.
"Kalliope Thornton," Kalliope replied softly.
Princess Calista smiled suddenly, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"I'm Princess Calista Blackmoon, of the Lunar Wolf Pack, mate to Kieran and future queen of Tenebrous. You are... welcomed here."
Kalliope nodded again, feeling uncomfortable with the honorifics – they felt like thinly veiled threats.
Her mind rebelled silently:
"This welcome is a joke. I'm a captive, not a guest. To hell with your prince and your kingdom."
Outwardly, her expression remained serene.
Princess Calista's next words sent a chill down Kalliope's spine:
"Have a nice stay here..."
The tone implied the opposite.
Then, Calista's smile turned icy sweet:
"And get ready for tomorrow – you will be announced to all Tenebrous as Kieran's... sex slave."
*****
Lyra trudged on, her legs screaming in exhaustion after hours of walking.
The Tenebrous Kingdom still lay ahead, shrouded in darkness and distance.
As night began to fall, she felt eerie eyes upon her - the woods seemed to be watching her every move.
Picking up pace, sword clutched tightly, Lyra spotted a building in the distance - a welcoming glow amidst the gloom.
But her heart sank as she drew closer - a brothel. Not exactly the safe haven she'd hoped for.
Still, with darkness closing in and unknown dangers lurking, Lyra had little choice.
A thunderclap sealed her decision - the sky was growing darker by the second.
She pushed open the brothel door and stepped inside.
Lyra stepped into the chaotic room, her eyes scanning the disturbing scene before her.
Ladies barely clothed or naked flirted with old men who leered at them with interest. Young girls, possibly her age or older, were also present, making Lyra's skin crawl. The dim lighting due to the storm outside seemed to embolden some couples to kiss shamelessly.
Lyra felt nauseous and irritated, her goosebumps a testament to her discomfort. She approached the woman behind the desk, hoping to escape the chaos.
"I need a room," Lyra said firmly.
The woman, likely the madam, looked Lyra up and down with a scowl. Her face was lined with age and anger. She eyed Lyra's short hair and boyish features, seeming unsure.
"Are you a boy or a girl?" she asked gruffly.
Lyra gave her a defiant glare, matching the woman's hostile tone.
"What business is it of yours?"
The madam sneered, "Get out. This place isn't for your type. Whatever type that is."
Lyra gave her a defiant glare, matching the woman's hostile tone.
"I said, what business is it of yours?"
The madam's face turned redder, her voice rising. "You think you're tough? I've seen tougher. Get out before I call my men!"
Lyra's eyes flashed grey like moonlight, and her voice dropped to a low growl.
Her body began to shift partially - her fingers elongating into claws, nails sharpening into razor tips, and her jaw lengthening slightly. Soft, silver fur prickled on her cheeks and forehead, but her overall form remained mostly humanoid.
The madam's eyes widened in terror as Lyra pressed the knife to her throat.
"R-room... number?" Lyra growled, voice low and menacing.
The madam stuttered, "R-room 201... T-third floor..."
Lyra snatched the key from the madam's trembling hand, her clawed fingers closing brutally around the woman's wrist - tearing skin and flesh brutally as she pulled away.
The madam screamed, blood spurting from her mangled wrist as Lyra pocketed the key.
Lyra's partially transformed face twisted into a snarl before she turned to head for the stairs, leaving the madam crumpled and bleeding behind.
*
Kalliope collapsed onto her bed, frustration boiling over.
"Announced to the entire kingdom as a sex slave..." She whispered the humiliating words aloud.
Her heart racing at the mere thought of facing Prince Kieran's subjects, her cheeks burning with imagined shame.
"I'd rather die than suffer that humiliation," she vowed to herself.
Escape was her only option – tonight.
But how, and who could she trust?
Her gaze fell on the door, thinking of the only people she'd interacted with kindly – Brixa and Lyrixa, her maids.
Maybe, just maybe, they would help her flee...
Just as Kalliope was lost in thought, the two maids, Brixa and Lyrixa, walked in together, as if drawn by an invisible magnet. Kalliope decided to ask them about Prince Kieran, hoping to glean some information.
"Who is Prince Kieran?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
Brixa leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "Prince Kieran is a dark prince, handsome as a god, but with a sinister nature lurking beneath his stunning looks." Lyrixa nodded in agreement.
"I've heard he has two bloodlines," Brixa continued, "dragon and wolf, which makes his transformations agonizing and unpredictable. Those days are... unsettling, to say the least." She paused, glancing around nervously.
Lyrixa took over, her voice laced with concern. "They say women have been sacrificed to satiate his uncontrollable lust, but none have survived." The maids exchanged a knowing glance, their eyes wide with understanding.
Kalliope's fear spiked, realizing she was destined for the same fate. "I need your help," she pleaded, her voice trembling.
Brixa and Lyrixa looked at each other, then back at Kalliope, their expressions a mix of determination and trepidation.
Hours later…
The darkness of night shrouded the secret passage, the only sound the soft rustling of cloaks. Three figures emerged from the shadows, their faces obscured by hoods.
Kalliope, draped in a voluminous dark cloak, stood tall, her eyes gleaming with determination. Beside her, Brixa and Lyrixa wore black cloaks, their faces set with resolve.
The passage, lined with cold stone and flickering torches, stretched out before them like a treacherous serpent. Guards patrolled the shadows, their armor glinting menacingly.
"This way," Brixa whispered, her voice barely audible over the creaking of leather armor. "The carriage at the marketplace will take you to the outskirts of the Tenebrous Kingdom."
Kalliope's eyes locked onto Brixa's, a silent thank you passing between them.
"Go now," Lyrixa urged, her voice low and urgent.
With a deep breath, Kalliope turned and sprinted into the darkness, her cloak billowing behind her like a dark wing.
The two maids watched her disappear into the night, then turned to leave. As they emerged from the passage, a towering figure loomed before them, its presence seeming to draw the very light out of the air.
The maids' hearts skipped a beat as they froze, their eyes locked onto the dark figure…
Kalliope navigated the bustling marketplace, her eyes scanning the crowded streets for the carriage. Blending in seamlessly, she moved with ease, unnoticed by the throngs of people.
Spotting the carriage, she approached it calmly, merging with the other passengers, a group of chattering ladies. The driver, an elderly man, waited patiently, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
As the carriage lurched forward, Kalliope's suspicions began to simmer. The ladies disembarked at a subsequent marketplace, which didn't resemble the outskirts she'd been promised.
The carriage continued on, veering into the woods. Kalliope's fear spiked, and she pounded on the carriage walls, panic setting in. Tears streamed down her face as the darkness deepened.
The carriage jerked to a halt, and Kalliope hesitated, afraid to exit. The silence was oppressive, and she clutched her knife and torchlight, prepared for the worst.
Cautiously, she stepped down, casting her torchlight in every direction. The woods seemed empty, but she sensed a presence lurking just out of sight.
"Who's there?" she called out, her voice trembling.
No response.
And then, a low whisper breathed against her ear: "Behind you."
Kalliope's grip on her torch and knife faltered, and they fell to the ground, leaving her defenseless.