Scentari |BxB|

PART 1: ZAYN MADDOX

I feel like an animal, sitting alone while locked up in a cage. The chains around my ankles and wrists feel heavy and tight, digging into my skin with every move I make. The metallic scent of the restraints fills my nose, and the weight of my captivity bears down on my shoulders.

It's late, and the hive is quiet except for the occasional whispers of the night guards. The hopeless fate of my kind consumes my thoughts. Male thralls like me are the lowest of the low in the scentari race.

A thrall's only purpose is to breed. We are the only ones out of the three subtypes that can produce primarchs. That is, as long as it's a female thrall with a male primarch. Since I am a male thrall, I can only reproduce other thralls or resilients. I can't mate with female primarchs because there aren't any. Therefore I have no purpose.

My bitterness is disturbed by a low creak as the doors to the main hall open. A few resilients enter. I watch quietly as they begin setting up the long table. The sound of silverware clinking echoes through the room, and the aroma of the food they are preparing fills my nostrils. A meal at this hour? The primarchs must be returning to the hive then. I hope they're coming with good news. It's been three days, and I hope to have a small bite of something.

As I wait, I can't help but feel envious of the resilients. They are immune to the pheromones of the primarchs, and while loyal to them, they have the freedom of choice in who they follow and mate with. Of course, they only breed with other resilients, but at least they have a choice.

Thralls don't have the luxury of choice. Instead, we are handpicked by primarchs and held captive by their pheromones through a phenomenon called social control. It's a brutal form of manipulation that alters our behaviour and renders us helpless to resist. Pheromones, released into the air from a special gland, can only be detected by thralls. Once we pick up their scent, we become consumed by an uncontrollable desire that forces us into submission.

I've been told about it countless times, but thankfully, I've never experienced it myself. I consider myself fortunate to be locked up in a cage, far away from the prying eyes of the primarchs. For other male thralls, however, the situation is far worse. They either live in fear, hiding from the pheromones, or they are subjected to unspeakable abuse and exploitation by their captors.

I remain unnoticed in my cage as the resilients quickly fill the table with a feast fit for a king. Dressed in matching charcoal grey tunics over off-white sarouel pants, their transparent and fragile wings flutter now and then, creating a gentle breeze that tickles my ears as a few hover above the table, straightening the decor with graceful hands.

I'm mesmerized by their elegance and the freedom they possess. It's a luxury I've never afforded as a thrall. I can only imagine what it would be like to soar through the air, to feel weightless and untethered.

But as much as I envy the resilients, I could never live like them. Our differences are too stark. Their clothes are embroidered with gold, while my rough and tattered tunic reminds me of my lowly status. Their wings shimmer in the soft light while heavy chains weigh down my back. Even if I could leave my cage, I would never be able to blend in with the resilients. Mother Nature made sure of that. Thralls don't have wings.

My stomach growl with hunger. I take a deep breath and release a heavy sigh, the sound echoing off the cold metal bars of my cage. I can't help but feel like a prisoner, trapped by my biology and the whims of the primarchs. But then I remind myself that I am safe in my cage, shielded from the dangerous world outside.

The distant sound of a horn echoes through the halls, signalling the primarchs' return to the hive. The resilients scramble to finish their preparations and rush out of the hall. Left alone once again, the silence is shattered by the sudden slam of the heavy doors as they are flung open with brute force, striking the back wall with a loud thud.