Sheera, A Keeper And The Unexplainable Rage

"I am Sheera. I was uh..." she paused, realizing from his expression that he knew who she was already from her name. 

"Are you Prince Ulric?" She questioned. 

Ulric confirmed her thought with a nod. And quickly, she dipped her head in respect. 

Somehow, she'd known. Perhaps it was the air of nobility that clung to him, or the faint resemblance he bore to Prince Malkar.

He seemed young, though, no more than a year or two her senior. And unlike Keegan and Malkar, there was a hint of warmth in his eyes. 

Ulric reached for another arrow, nocked it on the bowstring, aimed, and released. The arrow found its target with a satisfying thud. An amused chuckle warmed his voice. 

"Where did you learn archery?" He looked at Sheera again who smiled at the memories of her mother. 

"My mother is a hunter. So am I. We've been doing this our whole lives." 

A light dawned on Ulric, and he gave a sharp nod. 

The reason he was out there, shooting at made up targets was because he needed to clear his head of Zytha. The air around him had become suffocating since the last time they spoke. And despite how hard he's tried, he couldn't get the pretty witch out of his head. He needed her just as much as he needed his next breath. Yet, she was so far away. 

But despite his anger that morning, he knew that wasn't the reason he'd been missing his targets. Long before then, he's been very bad at archery. 

"May I?" Sheera inclined her head at the quiver beside him.  

Giving her the go-ahead, Sheera reached for an arrow and gently took the bow from him. She smiled as she connected the duo and aimed at her target. Oh, how much she's missed hunting!

"I think you're aiming a bit high," Ulric said, noticing the bow was targeted too high above any of the targets on the field. 

"Those aren't my targets," Sheera said, three seconds before she pulled the string and sent her arrow flying high in the air. 

Ulric's jaw dropped when it perfectly hit a bird that'd been far off in the field, perched on the fence. The bird squawked and dropped to the ground. 

How in the name of Hestia was she able to pull that off? The distance had been too much, the target impossibly small. Yet, Sheera had hit it with an accuracy that bordered on the supernatural. 

"How... How is that possible?" He scoffed, looking at the bird and shaking his head. 

Sheera's cheeks heated as she lowered the bow and admired what she'd done.

...

Keegan, accompanied by Kalaril and three Keepers stood concealed at the edge of the field, watching with equal amusement in their eyes. 

They had been on their way elsewhere when they spotted Sheera drawing her bow. Kalaril had let out a chuckle, assuming her aim was poor and off-target.

But Keegan knew what her target was. He knew it was the bird. 

A frown line creased his forehead when the arrow hit the bird, bringing it to the ground. While the others expressed their surprise, he expressed nothing, keeping his emotions to himself. 

"Wow. That's.... a good aim," Kalaril muttered. 

The duo at the field were oblivious of their presence. Saying nothing, Keegan walked away, his companions following him. 

****†

Sheera had managed to snatch a few fitful hours of sleep during the day.

A sudden rapping on her door startled her awake, jolting her from her uneasy slumber. 

Drowsily, she shuffled towards the door and flung it open to find a Keeper standing on the other side.

"Hello, Sheera. How are you doing?" He asked with a smile that seemed strange for a Keeper. She'd always known the Keepers to be grumpy.

"I'm... I'm fine." She arched her brows.

"Good. The Alpha needs you to do something quick for him. Come with me."

Tilting his head, he began walking away. Sheera had no choice but to follow

...

They walked for a while, weaving their way through the labyrinthine halls of the Fortress. 

Sheera was curious on what the Alpha would want her to do in his absence.

After what seemed like forever, they reached a secluded corner that seemed to house the servants' quarters. She was confused, curious and wanted to ask questions, but the Keeper continued his brisk pace.

Finally, they got into a small room.

Sheera was confused. What possible task could await her here? Was she to become a servant and tidy up the room?

"What am I supposed to do here?" She inquired.

The Keeper's smile, once friendly, stretched into a leer that sent shivers down her spine. 

With a sickening click, the door slammed shut behind her, the lock snapping into place.  

Sheera's heart skipped a beat. No it couldn't be what she was thinking.

"Sheera," he rasped, his voice thick with desire, "you are as beautiful as your name sounds." He closed the distance between them, each step a violation, forcing her to back away until her spine met the rough wall.

"I actually have a confession to make. I know you are the Alpha's property, and I definitely have no right to even look at you. But from the first moment I laid eyes on you, I have been unable to think clearly. Don't you remember? It was I who had shown you to your room the first time. You are so beautiful, Sheera, and in a bad way, you affect me. I want you. I am sorry, but I cannot help it."

Sheera panicked. He saw her not as a person, but a forbidden fruit he was willing to snatch despite the consequences.

The Keeper reached for her, pulling her by the waist.

"Noo!! Let me go!" She yelled, fighting with all her might.

The young man shoved her onto the bed, laughing at the way she fell.

"Calm down, alright? The Alpha will never know." He commented as he got ontop of her.

"No! No!" Another scream tore from her throat. 

She clawed at his clothes, kicked at his shins. But he was bigger, stronger.

Using one of his hands, he pinned her both hands above her head and fumbled with the fastening of her dress with the other.

Sheera could see it coming. And oh, she'll be damned if she gets deflowered by anyone other than the Alpha! She already told him she was a virgin!

"Please! Please! You can't do this!" She panted heavily. 

Her cries only seemed to arouse the keeper as he chuckled derisively.

The gravity of the danger she was in registered in her head. 

Suddenly, a surge of strength, unexpected and powerful, coursed through her veins.  

She forcefully jerked her hands from his grasp. And with a force so hard, she hit him hard in the face, breaking his nose.

The Keeper roared in pain, reeling back as blood streamed down his nose. Momentarily stunned, he stumbled, giving her a precious window of opportunity.

Sheera was blinded with rage and strength she couldn't explain. Pushing him off, she stood up and kicked him hard in the stomach.

He growled and tried getting to his feet, but she was faster. Angrier. She grabbed a stick she found in the room and hit him repeatedly in the head, grunting as she did.

"Rot! Rot, you worthless wolves!" She growled, not having any idea how those lines had come into her head.

At that very point, she didn't know what she was feeling. Or how she was able to feel them at all. All she could think about was wanting to badly hurt him. Wanting to watch the light fade from his eyes.

A monstrous strength coursed through her veins, making her feel like a stranger trapped in her own body. She couldn't breath. 

It was a power that both terrified and exhilarated her. A raw, untamed force that threatened to tear her apart.

She let out a pained cry when she finished, and only then was she able to get a grip of herself and stop.

She took labored breaths with the stick in her hands. Her eyes widely open like they could swallow up a building, she stared at the man on the floor who was now a corpse.

She shivered and threw the stick to the floor. A cold sweat slicked her skin, the metallic tang of blood filling her nostrils.

Her entire body shook with fear. What has she done!?