CHAPTER 7

MITCH

"WHAT EXACTLY IS going on? What are you doing?" Draco snarled at Mitch. "It has been exactly one week and you still haven't done anything about the girl in the dungeons." He paced the room in agitation.

Mitch relaxed on the couch, reading through some leaflets of paper. "Can you believe that the prices of these things are going up? We got a shitload of diesel two weeks ago and this week it's almost tripled the price... and even little things like books for the school too." He asked absent-mindedly tossing the paper away and watching them float to the floor. "Sometimes I even bother why we do any business with the human community. We are superior to them. We should rule them by force."

"Are you even listening to me?" Draco sighed in exasperation. 

"As I am superior to you," Mitch's voice grew harder as he spoke. "Both in species and in rank. I am not some miserly werewolf like the rest of you. You should watch how to talk to me."

Draco froze and turned to look at Mitch. They remained in silence for a while then he said, "Fuck you, man."

Mitch smiled and sat up. "What would you have me do with her?"

Draco poured out a drink from the bottle on the table. "You can do your normal things... enslave her. Fuck her. Beat her or even kill her." He said after taking a sip. "But you should not leave her to rot down there."

"Well, that's what she deserves for everything her family has done," Mitch snarled.

"That is a cowardly way to end one's enemies," Draco snapped. "You have to do something about it. And do it fast. Like a superior species that you are." He echoed what Mitch had said earlier.

Mitch nodded. "I have heard you. Now can I go back to reading through matters of the kingdom?"

"Or you can just send her away," Draco said, averting his gaze from the stare that Mitch pinned on him. "Aw come on, you know she is not a threat. Her father is dead."

"Her father is dead?" Mitch asked. "How? When? I wanted to be the one to kill that bastard and why didn't you tell me all this time? We could have planned a successful attack against the pack now that they're without a leader."

Draco shook his head. "I could not get you alone to speak to. Not while you have been fucking that Ophelia," His voice was laced with disgust. He sat on the couch beside Mitch and added. "That woman is bad for you, Mitch. She is like... venom. She slowly poisons and kills you."

Mitch rolled his eyes. "Back to the topic at hand, Draco," he stood up. "It is not too late. We can still attack -"

"It happened 3 fucking years ago," Draco snapped. "And she got married immediately. That was why we didn't hear of it. We probably heard of the marriage, but not the burial before the marriage."

"So she is married," Mitch drawled. 

"She was, now she is not," Draco said.

"What the fuck?" Mitch exclaimed. "Now you see; this is why I spend my time with Ophelia. She doesn't confuse me the way you do." He took the bottle of whisky from the table and drank it directly. "What do you mean she was married and now she is not."

"She didn't expand on the topic," Draco said, ignoring Mitch's outburst.

"And you didn't think to prod," Mitch walked to the window and looked out. "Now that I think of it, why have you been speaking to the prisoner without my consent?"

Draco coughed out a laugh. "Because someone has to do the real work around here."

"You interrupted my work," Mitch replied. "I was just going through what was going on in the kingdom."

Draco scoffed and stood up. "Kingdom," He muttered under his breath. "Go and see her, Mitchel." He called as he walked out of the room.

Mitch rolled his eyes and took another swig from the bottle.

A few minutes later, he took his overcoat from the rack near the door and walked out. He headed to the mountain in which the cells were caved from. The people from his kingdom - he preferred to call it a kingdom, not a pack because he believed his people were more civilized than packs. And they were more in number than the average... and a pack was normally led by a werewolf. Which he was not - but they respected him. Stopping and bowing as he walked by. He kicked off the snow from his boot before he walked into the tunnel that led into the dungeons. 

"Fucking mountain weather," He said under his breath. His heath rose in a vapor as he spoke.

He walked down the long thin tunnel, the flames flickered as he walked by and cast a menacing shadow behind him.

"Your Highness, sir," one of the guards saluted and bowed.

"And how is our prisoner?" Mitch asked.

"As well as she can be, sir," The guard replied.

"Let me through," Mitch said and the door was immediately unlocked. He walked through, seeing her struggled hair and pale skin, but her sight still made his heart thump in his chest. He saw she was on a blanket, there was a long water skin beside her, those amenities were the works of Draco, no doubt.

"Making yourself comfortable, I see," He commented.

She lowered her gaze and looked to the floor.

"This is a prison!" Mitch bellowed. "Not a fucking 5-star hotel. Stand to your feet when I'm talking to you!"

She scrambled to her feet unsteadily.

He took a step back and gazed at her. "You have been eating the food of the people your father and his father persecuted for years! Look at you, gaining weight!" He scoffed.

She started to say something but swallowed and looked at the floor. Her body was shaking with fear and weakness.

Mitch looked at her. There was a strange scent hovering around her. She looked at him timidly and then looked away.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" Mitch asked. "I heard you are married. And then not married again," he smirked.

"I - um," She started to say again but swallowed.

"And your daddy isn't around to save you." Mitch sneered again, enjoying her discomfort. "Say something. You find it easy enough to talk to my Beta."

She looked at him and opened her mouth to talk, "I --" but she never finished what she was saying as her stomach contents came out her mouth and she vomited on Mitch's foot.