Azriel took me into the main room and led me to a chamber off to the right. I tried not to look too long at the wall opposite the marble altar, the wall where I'd taken the souls of humans and replaced them with new ones. I could've sworn I glimpsed a few drops of dried blood along the floor.
Wordlessly, Azriel pushed open the chamber's door. I blinked. The room within was very much unlike anywhere else in this crappy dungeon. The cobblestone walls had been smoothed out, the floor itself replaced with white marble. Along the sides of the room stood many metal stalls, their showerheads peeping from just over the lips. In the middle sat a long, wooden bench.
I blinked. Of course, this place wasn't just built to keep prisoners. It was also built to endure attacks, and so a communal bathing chamber wasn't surprising.
Azriel's hand glided to the small of my back, and it took every fibre of my being not to flinch. "The maids will see to you," was all he said, before turning on his heel to walk away. He stopped after several paces, as though debating if he should say more, before resuming his exit of the room, shutting the door loudly behind him.
I blinked again. In my first scan of the room, I'd missed the green-cloaked figures lurking in the background. Maid, Azriel had called them, but I knew what that forest-green colour meant. Omegas. Still, the Peltas were embroidered with purple rather than the usual gold. Strange, I thought to myself as they approached.
I debated asking them for help before I glimpsed their stone-set faces. Their eyes were cold and unfeeling, and that was when I knew why they had different Peltas. These were Azriel's underlings, answering directly to him, carrying out whatever tasks that were needed down in this hell hole. They'd probably never stepped foot out of these catacombs, and judging by their pale skin, I didn't doubt it, either.
Roughly, two of the maids grabbed my rags and pulled them off despite my protest, whilst a third started a shower. I tried to ignore the cold air that kissed my bare skin, along with the embarrassment of being naked in front of strangers. If they cared, they didn't let on. Instead, they grabbed my wrists and dragged me towards the shower. I didn't bother struggling. I was sure the iron door behind me was locked, and something told me these Omegas were much more powerful than their figures let on. And with my suppressed magic and weakened state already, I wasn't planning on finding out if that were true.
I had no time to prepare before I was thrust under the shower. I gasped. This water was cold, icy-cold, as though it had been held underground for years. I tried to suppress my shivers as the maids silently scrubbed along my body -- one working on my hair whilst the other scrubbed what could only have been weeks worth off grime my skin. When they reached my intimate areas, I gave a little hiss, implying I could take care of it myself, and fortunately they seemed to respect my wishes.
Once I was cleaner than I had been in weeks, the water shut off and I was handed a towel. Meekly, I towelled myself off, relishing the warmth it provided as one of the maids gathered a bundle of white cloth sitting on the bench.
I paused mid-stroke, swallowing. A dress. A day dress. I really was going out there, back out into a world I hadn't seen for what felt like an eternity. I would be seeing all those people again, people like Raina, and they'd be praising and worshiping me, just as they'd always done. And I'd be forced to plaster a smile on my face and pretend everything was fantastic, that I wasn't being held captive by the man they called their leader.
I scanned the maids' faces as they pulled the dress over me. They held no indication of remorse, or sympathy. In a way, they looked broken, mindless. I shuddered to think what had happened to them, and if I would bear the same face once this was over, once I'd ruined as many lives as I could with my own mortal stupidity.
Silence continued to haunt the space, even when the maids stepped back with bored looks on their faces, eyes sliding to the door. My cue to leave. Almost in a daze, I stood and lumbered towards the door, my exhaustion weighing on my shoulders. I was certainly skinnier than I had been, but it wouldn't be enough to cause alert. It seemed a semi-immortal body had its own ways of countering starvation, even when I had not touched that shit they delivered at my cell -- not once.
As though sensing my presence, the door swung open. Azriel stared at me, smiling. Smiling just like he had on the day of Moonfall. Smiling just like he had after he kissed me, when we stared into each other's eyes until night came to claim us.
The smile of a lover.
A betrayer.
He held out his arm. I didn't even bother to resist as invisible chains hoisted my own arm, interlacing it with his. My lips turned up as those invisible controls tugged at them, forcing me into a fake smile. I stared at him. His stupid binds couldn't make that smile meet my eyes, no matter how hard he tried. It seemed he knew that, too, for his face had gone hard like rock.
I felt a flash of anger, then... nothing. I felt nothing these days, other than the bonds that tugged me around like a puppet. Otherwise, I just felt... numb.
Without another word, he led me through the corridors. My mind drifted off to a different time, a different place as my legs followed on autopilot.
A place where there was no Azriel, no werewolves. A place I'd found myself visiting a lot in my dreams, a place that had kept me sane all these weeks. A clearing in a grove, a sparkling pond at its edge. There was no misery there, no false bond keeping me tethered to someone I hated. There was only freedom, something I had once taken for granted.
And something I would probably never get again.
Before long, I was walking up cobble steps. Azriel pushed open the wooden trap door with a grunt, and I wasn't surprised to see no people milling about the courtyard. This was probably some werewolf glamour. After all, I really knew little about werewolves -- blindly believing in my mate bond with Azriel proved that.
Rustling leaves. Whistling winds. Voices... many voices. Clamour. I looked towards the direction of the Feasting Hall, towards all the noise. That hell-damned smile was still upon my lips, and I wanted nothing more than to tear my face off.
"Come now, Kyra-love," Azriel said, leading me by his arm towards the archways. "Your people are eager to see you."
My chest caved at the words. My people... these weren't my people. They were as deceived as I. They had no idea I was being held captive and being used as nothing more than a slave by their beloved leader. They didn't know of the torture I was enduring, of what my friends were enduring.
So, something close to fear built in my chest as we ducked under the marble arches, the wooden doors sealed shut. Gripping the handle, Azriel spared me not a look as he schooled his face into a pleasant smile, sending the doors forward.
Silence, then some shuffling and scrapes of chairs. I could feel the eyes on me -- feel them but not really see them. I felt locked in my own cage, blind to everything, everyone -- yet still that smile persisted on my face.
"Luna Kyra!" someone called. Similar words followed: "She's back!", "Thank the gods for her good health!", "She blesses us once again!"
I heard none of them. My eyes were focused on the table at the head, where a great black seat black, a silver one at its side. I couldn't bring myself to look at the smirking Gammas, or the bored Zeta, her nonchalance more haunting than any smirk or sneer.
My feet moved as we walked towards the head table. I finally took the liberty to look at all those faces. They passed like smears on a canvas, all sorts of expressions casting along their features, so many that I couldn't discern which was right. Anger. Joy. Fear. Awe. None of it made sense. When I focused on a face, I'd see them instead -- the human faces. The ones I'd memorized even though I'd tried so hard not to.
Panic surged in my veins and the urge to vomit consumed me whole. If it wasn't for Azriel's iron grip on me, I may have emptied my stomach on the floor -- not that there was anything to empty.
Mindlessly I took my seat, staring at the plate before me. Turkey drizzled in gravy, something I may have once loved but now regarded with disgust. I didn't even get to look at it for long, not as my eyes were forced upwards, that force pulling tighter on my mouth.
"Greetings all." The words tumbled from my mouth, and I didn't even bother to fight them. "I am joyed to be feasting with you once again. I have recently been on a long and arduous journey to one of our outposts with Lord Zion, who shall be back soon."
That made me sit up. Would Zion be here too? Playing this false charade so Azriel could save his own hide?
"So, please," the words continued. I lifted the champagne glass before me, its pale gold liquid distorting the faces of those who watched me. "Let us enjoy this celebration!"
Cheers of approval roared in response. Azriel gave me an encouraging smile, but I just dodged his gaze. I couldn't see his expression as he lessened the grip on my mouth, enough so that it wasn't stretching my face with a false smile, but still firm enough to prevent a frown.
I allowed my eyes to rove the crowd again. Fortunately, everyone was focused on their meals, aside from one familiar blue-eyed individual, her gaze as cold and hard as ever. Her eyes flicked between me and Azriel, a soft frown on her lips. If I wasn't so empty, I may have chuckled. Of course Azure would be jealous of me after everything that'd happened.
A painful pang resounded in my heart, and I felt a flash jealousy myself as I stared at her. If only she knew what it was like to be with him, at his utter disposal. If only she knew of how lucky she was to have freedom, to feel emotions for more than just a brief moment.
My eyes were forced to my plate, and my hand went to the fork. I gave Azriel a side-long glance, his hard expression saying, "Eat."
But It wasn't like I could do otherwise as my hand gripped the silverware, shivering as the prongs sank into the meat, reminding me of canines sinking into flesh. All I could taste was human blood when I placed a piece in my mouth. Still, I was forced to swallow.
Amid the clamour, a red-headed man slipped in unnoticed, his clothes as prim and proper as mine. Only someone with a keen eye could spot the paleness in his usually tanned complexion, the hollowness of his cheeks from weeks worth of Wolfsbane.
Noting my stare, Azriel leaned into my ear and whispered, "Don't worry, dear. Us three have big plans for tonight."
I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing. I didn't want to contemplate what that might mean. For me.
For us.