Tasting Drakness

Chapter 5

Aleera POV

For three days, I have sat in this cell. Noone came except one man. He brought me a bottle of water and some bread, but that was it. Every morning, like clockwork. They hated me, but I didn’t care; the feeling was mutual. Yet despite my hatred for the men that killed my family, I didn’t think they would do this to me. Yes, I ran, but I had a good reason for not being with them. Did they honestly think I would go running into the arms of my parent’s murderers?

I should have chosen the werewolves. At least I wouldn’t suffer this misery. Stupid Aleera. I was fucking stupid for calling on them.

Hearing the steel door groan as it opens, I look over to see the man of the morning. He walked over, his back ramrod straight. He bends down, placing a metal plate on the ground that holds three slices of bread.

“Are you trying to anger them?” He asks, speaking for the first time in three days. It speaks! I thought dryly. I was beginning to wonder if he were mute and was waiting for him to bust out some miming, it would have been nice to have some entertainment. I ignore him, and he growls. He growled like some savage, making my head turn to glare at him.

If he weren’t one of my mate’s minions, I would appreciate the conversation, but since he was also helping hold me prisoner. I couldn’t care less about his words. He has brown hair to his shoulders and even darker pitch-black eyes. His scent told me he was a Were-Fae; he had Lycan blood running through his system. That and the black eyes were a dead giveaway.

the wall that has captured my attention, and I

he says. The man didn’t look that old, maybe in his late twenties

goddammit, if I have to go up there and tell them, they will probably order me to kill you, so please eat. I don’t want to be responsible for your death. I have enough blood on my hands,” He mutters the last part more to himself,

appealing. Bring on

have any idea who they are, what Darius is capable

name?” I

not know?” I thought I heard

days now, you choose to speak to me. Were you told not to talk to me?” I ask, and

licked my cracked, dry lips, my tongue so dry it felt like sandpaper. My throat is raw, but if they intended to keep me here forever, I would rather starve to death and put myself out of my misery. I was doing

starvation, and I guessed that if it were hot down here, dehydration would have

about telling Darius. I find it funny, is all,”

that be funny? They will kill you. No,