My eyes went straight to the front, where they sat on giant thrones made of bone and lycan pelts turned to leather. I swallowed when I spotted the severed heads impaled upon spikes atop their chairs.
It was morbidly grotesque.
Worse was them preserving them somehow. Each eyeless face was branded right across the forehead to let others know just who they had been when living.
All belonged to the first generation vampires, the ones responsible for creating the lethal war machines that overthrew the government.
Taking a glance around the room, I noticed for the first time glowing orbs of various colors shining in the darkness surrounding them. We were trapped with monsters. I and eleven others stood crowded together between four guards. Jacinda was to my left, and Scarlett was on my right.
The selection began with a blonde lycan and a red-headed vampire being forced to step forward. As they did, I made out the three large shapes of the sovereign, but it was impossible for me to see the tyrannical king himself.
When one of the depires finally spoke from the darkness straight ahead of them, his voice was cold, brisk, and firm.
“We'll keep the vampire; send the blonde to the auction.” At once, two different guards came forward to lead the young women off in separate directions.
Auction? This was the first I’d heard of such a thing. What the hell did that mean? Was it literal?
It went on like this for a while; some they kept while others they discarded. All of them lost their dignity and self-worth. Hot anger and shame for my fellow demis burned through me, but I knew to keep my mouth shut for the time being. A bold demi had spoken out, telling the sovereign that they were all pathetically disgusting, and her tongue was taken from her mouth by a vampire servitor all too willing to do the honors.
She was discarded but her severed organ remained on the ground.
Two lycans were led forward next. They were small, clearly runts as Jacinda was. While one stood tall and showed courage, the other looked as if she were going to faint from abject terror at any second.
“Kill the left; take the right,” that same cold voice ordered lazily.
Kill? I was certain I had misheard that. The verdict was unjust and asinine. Did they expect the woman to be calm? The braver of the two screamed and cried for her twin, but was inevitably dragged from the room.
Her sister remained solemn, as if resigned to her fate. She did not beg or fall apart as her executioner approached, and she did not flinch when her throat was slit. The room remained silent as her body slumped to the floor and the bloodied gurgling noises died away.
When only six of us remained it took every ounce of self-control I could harness to remain quiet.
I could not bear the thought of anything happening to my friends, my sisters unrelated by blood. We had been together for years, our families intertwined as one.
“And the wayward queen decided to get herself caught.”
His voice was different now, narrative but not as cold. Strangely more gentle. For only a few seconds, I contemplated how he knew I’d been purposely brought in. Then, I remembered he was said to be as intelligent as he was cunning.
Cognizant Toby would still be on the grounds. I found my voice and chose my words carefully.
“My options were slim.”
“Options.” He said the word as if its meaning were lost to him.
“I need your help.”
“Help?” he parroted in what sounded like amusement.
Teeth grinding together, my fear battled with frustration. It bothered me for some unknown reason that I couldn’t see his face. I hated that it had come to this, me standing under glaring light surely illuminating my fall from grace, forcibly pushing my plea through reluctant lips.
Help was the last thing I wanted from this creature. Dragging him from his throne and doing to him what had been done to my kind was much more pleasing.
“You seem angry, my queen.”
My objection was swift and stern. “I am not your queen.”
“Didn’t you just request my help?”
I wasn’t sure what one had to with the other.
“Rodrick, remove their chains,” he suddenly commanded with harshness.
As with his other orders, it was carried out immediately. A thin man stepped from the shadows.
Using what had to be a universal key, he rushed forward and removed the restraints binding my wrists, moving on to do the same with Jacinda’s and Scarlett’s.
“Come forward,” the king commanded me, his tone softening once more.
Resisting the urge to massage my aching wrists, I calmly stepped into the darkness where he sat. The filthy gown of a stranger swept over the immaculate marbled floor, braid a mess of wild hair, and alabaster skin coated in grime…I looked far more a peasant than a royal.