ATLANTION - LAYLA BOOK1

Part 42 Layla

The Dark Duke sat in a soft leather chair, surrounded by towering stacks of old books and forgotten artifacts. An enormous bookcase loomed behind him, scratching the floor with its weight. Layla surveyed the room, taking in the purple moonlight that mixed with the colors of the stained glass windows, casting eerie patterns across the floor and objects in the room.

She couldn't help but notice the small, intricate throne in the back of the room, forgotten in the darkness. Was this the domain of a king or a ruler of sorts? Layla shuddered at the thought.

As she examined her surroundings, the sound of her footsteps echoed through the chamber. More statues, unlit candelabras, and dusty carpets filled the space, adding to the feeling of dread that crept up her spine.

"So, you are fond of this place?" The Dark Duke's voice startled her, and she jumped. She noticed a large orange cat with floppy ears lounging on a stack of pillows in front of the fireplace. Its fur moved like silky fire limbs, and its eyes watched her with a wicked gleam.

"You know each other?" The Duke raised a brow.

"I wouldn't say so." The cat purred with feigned indifference and continued to puff on its pipe.

"You slept in my bed... Is it your fault I am in all this ordeal?" Layla pointed at the cat. This feline was all that bound her previous life with all this madness.

"Sleeping in her bed? You move fast, my friend." The Duke chuckled.

"Aww, all right, all right. I checked out what all the fuss was about, and it is not polite to point the finger at someone, young lady." The cat pounced and puffed a vast cloud in her direction.

The awful stench of tobacco burned Layla's nose, and she coughed profusely. The Duke produced a pipe of his own and joined in, as if this were a normal occurrence. These two would poison her to death. No wonder none lived here; only these poor, immobile statues remained to suffer.

"I didn't see that this woman could be so awful, so young, and so bitter," replied the cat and pretended to read.

"You are reading your book upside down, mister," retorted Layla, furious.

"Forgive my friend Katon; he is old and doesn't know how to approach a human," replied the Duke, smiling.

"Human, don't humor me," barked Katon, turning his back and puffing his twisting tail at them.

"Could you take a seat, my dear?" The Duke gestured to a chair in front of him.

Layla hesitated, unsure if she should trust this man. His voice and attitude shifted from boyish and teasing to sly and cunning, like a fox analyzing potential prey. But she sat in the soft chair, and its cushions enveloped her figure like a warm embrace. She felt her eyes grow heavy and sleepy.

The Duke watched her like a chess player considering his next move. "Why do you think I saved you today, Miss Layla Darkwood?"

"I do not have the slightest clue." Layla felt a tremor in her belly.

"Let's take an unconventional approach. What do you know about yourself?" The Duke paused on the word 'know' like a teacher reprimanding a student.

Layla told him about the hospital, the story about the forest, and her amnesia. Suddenly, the Duke stopped her with his hand.

"Suddenly, you would want to know the actual truth about yourself, Miss Layla, or are you Miss Layla or someone else? Do you?"

Layla felt a tremor in her hands, but she tried to keep her composure. She couldn't trust this man so easily, but something about him made her feel like she could. She thought of Feron and Farrar, both of whom she trusted, but they were nowhere to be found.

The man's voice was like honey, smooth and comforting, but Layla knew better than to let her guard down. She looked around nervously, but the only other creature in the room was a red fire fur cat, its sly eyes watching them with interest.

"Maybe someone is waiting for you, a home, a family. Didn't you ever consider such a turn?"

Layla felt a pang of sadness deep in her chest. She had always been alone, never belonging anywhere. But the thought of a family, a home, was tempting. She had never allowed herself to consider such a possibility, but now it felt like a dream come true.

"Family? I have a family... I...," she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence. A lump formed in her throat, and tears stung her eyes. She tried to hold them back, not wanting to give away her desperation.

The red fire fur cat meowed, and Layla turned to look at it. Suddenly, the room was filled with a strange, otherworldly sound. It was like a mixture of whispers and screams, and it made Layla's hair stand on end. She looked around frantically, but she couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.

Then, she heard a voice. It was faint at first, but it grew louder and louder until it filled her entire being. It was her own voice, but it sounded distorted and twisted.

"You don't belong here, Layla. You never have. You're a monster, a freak. And you'll never be anything else."

Layla gasped, trying to push the voice out of her head, but it was too strong. The room spun around her, and she felt like she was falling. The man's face blurred, and the red fire fur cat disappeared. The only thing she could hear was her own voice, taunting her.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Layla opened her eyes, panting and sweating. The man was looking at her with concern, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze.

"What was that?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

The man shook his head. "I don't know. But it seems like you have a lot more to discover about yourself, Miss Layla."