Chapter 3.

Serana POV.

“You’re getting better at handling me, whore.” The monster says as he tightens his grip, grinding my hips faster and harder over his length. 

I ignore him, the pompous asshat. I don’t actually care, I just want this over with, so I have learnt to fake it like the best of them. Switching off my emotions is what I have learnt to do since they captured me when I was five.

“I’m gunna come. Mmm, yeah.” I say high pitched, biting my bottom lip and squeezing my walls around him. His green snake-like eyes roll into the back of head when he moves, flipping us so I am now under him. 

With my legs moved to his shoulders, he pounds into me, ruthlessly. He leans forward to kiss me and my breath catches in my throat. He said there would be no kissing on the mouth, so what the fuck is he trying to do?

Before he can, I lick and kiss his chest as I graze my teeth over his nipple, and he shudders. His movements become sloppy and I know he is close, so I moan louder as I squeeze him harder. He roars with his release, panting and chuckling before he opens his eyes and looks down at me.

“Better, much better. You are learning.” He says as he pulls out of me and I fake a smile at him. If I have learnt anything in this prison is that he likes it when I am submissive, so why shouldn’t I play along? 

He pulls on his boxers and moves to the door. I sneer at him but quickly look down as he turns to face me. My fiery red hair falling around my face like a wall of flames. 

“Tomorrow you will start working here. Report to the kitchens in the morning at five and ask for Lara. She will assign you your tasks. Goodnight Serana.” He says, and I snap my head up at him in disbelief as he closes the door softly. 

What is he playing at? 

He just gave me a job and even called me by my name! 

Well, no matter what it is, he can shove it. He is nothing but an arrogant, egotistical flying lizard who should have remained extinct.

I climb off the bed and head towards the bathroom. As I look at myself in the mirror, I sigh. Just great as I see the new hickeys on my neck and chest.

Then again, growing up with only one tunic and wraps as shoes and only eating stale bread and water, I suppose this is miles better. It’s just a shame that the company is shit. I miss the women I grew up with; I wonder if any of them survived? I doubt it; I know many perished that night, Lycans included.

Turning away, I enter the shower. This is my usual routine after he has his way with me. Once done, I shampoo and condition my hair and step out, wrapping myself in a fluffy towel. In clean pyjamas, I climb into bed and go to sleep.

Waking at four, I groan to get ready for the day. This is going to be torture, but then again, I am indoors and can explore, so it’s not so bad. I only hope I don’t see his scaly ass anytime soon.

Heading out of the room, I jump in freight as I come face to chest with a guard. A werewolf. Instincts kick in as I back away into the safety of my room. His eyes widen and I think I recognise him. He is one of the guards from the camps.

Lycans and werewolves are different. Werewolves are aggressive, fierce and protective but not as deadly as the Lycans. It was always the Lycans and the dark fae that tortured us. Even the vampires didn’t touch us. If anything, they looked disgusted at how we were treated. Again, something I never understood.

“Serana. Come with me.” I gulp and look at the floor, remembering how to act. I move closer to the guard when it dawns on me. How does he know my name?

“I mean you no harm. I know who you are and what you are.” Huh?

I look up at him, and he winks at me as I move past him. What does he mean?

“Follow me, princess. I will take you to the kitchen.” 

Why did he call me princess? I remember that is what the Lycan called me the night Vilkas emerged. Shrugging it off, I take the opportunity to look which way we are going, so I don’t get lost when I’m done. 

There are beautiful tapestries lining the walls and crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. The floor is white marble tiling with swirls of golds and greys through each slab. There are spaces on the walls where pictures used to hang. 

I look at the empty space, before I walk quickly towards the guard. He halts and turns to grasp my upper arm.

“It is good to know you are safe, and that you survived. Keep your head down while you are here.” He points with his chin.

“Go. Lara is waiting for you.” He releases my arm and turns and walks away. Ok this is becoming strange. 

I enter the kitchen and it is bustling with activity and I stand there not knowing what to do.

“You must be Serana. I am Lara and it is my job to make sure this palace is kept clean and everyone well fed. You will be on cleaning duty. I will show you where your things are. First, though, do you want breakfast?” I blink at her. Why is she being nice to me?

Lara is a beautiful lady, maybe 50 years old. Her blue eyes are kind, her brown hair has grey streaks through it as is tied neatly at the back of her head. She seems like the mother hen. I shake my head at her as she nods to me. 

“Everything is there. Head to the south wing and clean it. Every room. Another girl will come to help you shortly.” Lara walks in front of me and leads me to the cleaning closet. I grab the cart and head the way she pointed.

How are there humans here? The guards I have seen are werewolves. Some are fae and some are vampires. Did he kill all the Lycans? I shake my head as I make my way to the south wing. 

Keeping my head down, I reach the south wing. Looking up, I sigh as I look down the corridor. It goes on forever and I groan internally. I want to stamp my foot but I won’t. instead I push my cart forward and open the door to the first room.

Well, this will be easy. The room is practically empty. Apart from a single bed, nightstand, bedside unit, and TV. Simple enough. 

I completed three rooms and two bathrooms before the girl Lara told me about appeared. I didn’t say anything to her. I just wanted to get my work done. She gasps. 

“Serana?” I stop wiping the sink and turn around and come face to face with my friend from the camp. 

“Pascha?”