Feral Hearts

14

Victoria's POV

"You make it sounds like talking to me is a sin that you don't want to commit." Lukas's  voice was artfully bored, belying his sudden irrational spiking of interest.

And I, the woman who had caught his interest wasn’t even remotely his type.

"Is there a need to talk to you your highness?"
Lukas nodded curtly, irritated that he’d even asked the question now, and by the fact that I'd caught his eye.

But why bother to try to know me?  From what I remember I knew that a king should not act the way he is acting right now.

I knew that Lukas should never asked a question that wasn’t utterly relevant in some way.

"Can you somehow entertain me? Tell me about your journey—"

"Why should I tell you?"

'When you are the reason of my sufferings?' my mind added but I don't have the strength to voice it out.

"Because I am your king—"

And at that moment I find the courage to broke my gaze from whatever I’d been staring at and turned to face towards where Lukas stood.

"I was once a mere slave,"
His eyes widen in shock and I hope he's  satisfied with my response.

Flashback

My laughter echoes and escaped from my mouth. I double over, hands pressed against the smooth parapet, gasping for breath. I can’t control it.

True laughter, the deep kind from the pit of my stomach, takes over.

The noise is hollow, harsh, and dusty from disuse. My scars bite, stinging along my neck and spine, but I can’t hold it back. I laugh until my ribs hurt and I have to sit down, putting my back against the cold stone.

It doesn’t stop, and even when I bite my lips closed, little bursts still make it through.

No one can stop me, and I doubt it if they care about a single girl laughing alone in the darkness. I’ve earned the right to laugh or cry or scream as I see fit. Little pieces of me want to do all three. But laughter wins out.

I sound deranged, and maybe I am. I certainly have an excuse, after today.
Those people are still clearing bodies of those slaves like me.

The king of this hell hole chose his crown over everything. My still bleeding wounds are numb that no healer can fix. Wounds I have learned to ignore right now, for my own sanity.

The only thing I can do is put my face in my hands, clench my teeth, and fight my infernal, idiotic laugh.

This is complete and total lunacy.

Lily and I was captured by slaves traffickers.

What a terrific joke right?

I chuckle darkly again, tipping my head back against the stonework. The stars above me are pinpricks, dimmed by  the rising moon. The stars seem to watch, looking down at me. I wonder if those monsters are still laughing right now.

I wonder if Luca and his son, Lukas are laughing too.
The thought of them chills my blood, killing whatever manic giggle I have left.

Because of them, I am here.

The people here are wretched, they are letting children fight for dominance before giving us away or maybe selling us away.

We are trained to make others bleed and these people do nothing but to sit on a chair then watch. Their red eyes tick back and forth, watching us kill each other.