His Reluctant Luna

Ch 4 - Bloodthirsty

ATTENTION RADISH READERS! Please don't leave any spoilers in here or you'll be getting a spanking from Iona. Or Kole. Or Konnor. Whoever you'd prefer. 😘

***

My cell was was more medieval dungeon than jail cell. I expected a rat to scamper across my toes at any moment. It was cold, underground, the walls made of black stone, the floor a hard, unforgiving concrete. Steel bars were my only view to the darkened corridor, home to a row of empty cells. I was alone down here.

My cell contained a toilet, a sink where I could wash my face and get a drink of water, and a cot with a blanket. I suppose most people would have huddled on the cot, crying themselves to sleep. I, on the other hand, had just completed my hundredth push up. Panting with exertion, I shifted to my back and started counting sit ups.

I was scared, there was no point lying to myself about it. By now, I had gotten the gist of what a mating ceremony was. I figured it was like a wedding, just, without the legality. I reminded myself that legality didn't mean anything here. The rules in my world didn't count. I had to play by their rules now if I wanted to get out of here.

I didn't know how long I had been in here, there was no clock, no sunlight, but as the temperature dropped, I figured the day was drawing to a close.

So far, Kole's order had been followed. No lunch. No dinner. I was hungry, but I'd been hungrier. A pair of green eyes haunted me, emerald souls set in a handsome face I wanted to beat the living crap out of for doing this to me. I would find a way out of here. I hadn't survived my rotten childhood and wrenched myself out of that hellish world just to be beaten by these lunatics.

I felt him before I saw him. That prickle over my skin that told me he was nearby. He appeared on the other side of the bars a moment later and calmly stepped into my cell. I sat up as he sat on the bed, so far ignoring me. What was he playing at?

He reached into his pocket and produced a knife. I swallowed. This wasn't the first time I'd faced down a man with a knife, I knew how to fight back, but I wasn't stupid enough to think I could take him. From his other pocket he produced an apple. Wordless, he cut off a slice and held it out to me. My mouth watered at the sight, the juice glistening in the dank light. I reached out for it but he pulled away. I frowned. He lifted it to my mouth. He wanted to feed me? Fuck, no.

I pulled away and sneered at him in disgust. He popped the slice into his mouth and ate it, holding my gaze as he chewed. He cut another slice, again he offered it to me and again I refused to let him feed me. He ate that slice too and so it went, until the apple was all gone. With every slice my hatred for him grew and yet, he didn't seem to be enjoying his torment of me. The apple finished, he stood and walked out, taking the knife and apple core with him. Locking the cell gate he paused before leaving.

"My mother will be by in a while, she'll answer any questions you have. If you harm her in any way, I will have you whipped and kept in this cell for a year."

Wow. And who said romance was dead?

***

I had to wait until the next morning for his mother to show her face. I passed the night cold and hungry. But I'd been colder. Been hungrier. When my cell started to warm I knew the sun was rising outside. Soon after, Dinah arrived looking a lot less formal in jeans and a sweater.

"Good Morning Iona, how're you feeling?" She asked, her voice steady, calm. I ignored her question – how did she think I was feeling? She had brought a chair with her and seated herself on the other side of the cell bars. I sat up on my cot, leaning against the wall, my knees pulled to my chest to ease the hunger cramps in my stomach. She folded her hands in her lap and I was surprised to see her broken fingers weren't bandaged.