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.

Darius’s demonic eyes. I blink at him before turning back to the wall that has captured my attention, and I continue to count the bricks on the wall; it

Darius,” he says. The man didn’t look

tell them, they will probably order me to kill you, so please eat. I don’t want to be responsible for your death. I

appealing. Bring on the grim

serious, they….they will hurt you. Do you have any idea

name?” I

still not know?” I thought I heard

three days now, you choose to speak to me. Were you told not to talk to me?” I ask, and he looks away, so he has been told not to converse with the

and I was almost tempted to drink it. I 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 well so far, nearly seven days total without food,

hot down here, dehydration would have

find it funny, is

you. No, they will force me to do it, and that’s