Alpha's Slave | 18

itfully throug

it reached for her along the edges and just as her eyelids grew hooded, she would

and gasping for air, glowing with perspiration

entimes she whimpered whilst lying on her b

olled onto her side and gazed at the small rectang

he sky night that was once lit with

h gingerly pushed off the small cot. Reaching for a small sweater to wear over

nst the wall, Inayah blindly found her way around, s

windows, the wind swirls and howls out into the nigh

sense and fumbles with a small matchb

her palms around it, anxiously waiting for it to gain strength. Warmth spread

ively, she touches the hem of her nightgown and raises it, studying

ody is tend

d anger. I hate him so much. May

llies that constantly shoved her around. However, Salem took the cake.

e held power and authority and formed a fine electric mist around him. He

was that she feared he was ho

wn a random hallway, now completely wide awake. I

ring made to darkness. Light sweeps over numerous random rooms— neatly kept bedrooms, bathrooms,

ills at the sight of faint light spi

up to her throat, but she swallows. She begins to pivot

si

violin

eath her bare toes, Inayah contempl

proaching the door. Her palm presses against the door,

thick logs. Sparks burst and float before sizzling and dying as

sonder about the music that sets her heart into the deepest of symphoni

t to the sound as she envisions waves, crests that rise high an

ocating, drownin

tur

does not realize the tune has stoppe

calm for her liking. It catches her off guard and Inaya

dry, tongue clinging to the roof of her mouth. She ra

ck facing her, violin hanging limply by the side. She drop

king along with the candle she hol

is l

ondering if he would punish her again. The thought of it has her stom

whilst approaching the table where the violin's case lay open. Car

slave. Her build is ever more so delicate moreso in the thin gown she wears that falls just above

ngles upwards, clashing with his sapphire blue eyes

n she took note of his expression. He was gazing at her in ret

udder raced

the room. It was marked by a sense of stately comfort, dark and sleek. Gold a

situated, his sigil: a green

here was a bowl of gleaming fruit. She looked at this last for a moment o

trying to steady her nerves, her

utterly

eplace casts a flaming orange glow across half h

he armrest on the large throne-like seat bef

nonchalant grace, indicating his lap. T

ain, increased threefold by the

then face and lap again. Her mind reels with the possibility of denying him

would do, but her tongue

hen feels a small thrill of terror when his han

nd face me, "

of being on a battlefield. She felt num

It was him. There was a quality there, that as serene as he seemed on

his laps without her dress having to rise but her efforts are futile. The

she didn't know what to say. Her prospects seemed ominous. She

ad, or murder

her hip, fingering the materi

His voice is a