The Tribrid and Her Prison {Book One - Complete}

The Night of the Flood

The days were worse when it rained. The water sometimes rose to nearly Hope's knees- while sitting anyway. It wasn't as refreshing to someone who only bathes once a month as one might think. Indeed, being trapped in a five-foot by five-foot barred steel cage for most hours of the day was already unappealing, but when it rained, the water flow brought the day's debris.

Fallen leaves, candy wrappers, and muck from around other enclosures (whose occupants had less understanding of bathroom etiquette than she did) brushed against her knees. She pulled them up to her chest and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Though, she couldn't blame them for divulging their basic needs. She had them too, but she used the bucket provided in her cage rather than the ground.

Hope watched the Mooncalf mill about their enclosure in repetitive pacing movements, much like it did most nights. She knew it wouldn't find a soft spot on the metal floor. Each night Hope struggled with the same problem, trying to find a comfortable position so that her body heat could warm the floor below long enough to let her rest for a few minutes. However, if she repositioned in her sleep, she was greeted with freezing cold metal against her bare skin.

Initially, she'd been left naked in her enclosure to be treated as the animal she was. Still, eventually, a couple of mothers complained during display days, and she'd been given thin bits of clothing. The fabrics were patched together haphazardly and didn't quite fit, but it was enough to cover her breasts and most of her ass.

That had been a wonderful day. She was able to look around without seeing one of the Poaching Wizards gawking at her nipples. Now they looked at her in disdain, upset they couldn't see through the brown and gray stitching. Through the colder months, they would be moved into tents where they'd have more chance to stay warm. It wasn't for their benefit but for the spectators who didn't want chapped knuckles while observing the beasts in their enclosure.

Because that's what Hope Mikaelson was.

A beast.

Hope pulled her knees into her chest and shivered as another wave of frigid rain pelted her exposed skin. At least it wasn't the hot months. Her skin nearly burned off when touching the metal during those brutal sun-soaked days. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on warming some of her extremities. She focused on her fingers and toes first, wriggling them for much-needed movement when a loud bang sounded against her bars.

Her head jerked up, and she whipped around to follow the noise. Her gaze fixed on the tall, skinny Poacher named Janson, who liked poking at her with a stick when spectators were about. He grinned a yellow, broken tooth smile at her and swiped his greasy black hair back as the rain fell harder.

"Gonna have ta taken 'em in, I suppose," he called to Match, a shorter and burly man with a large mustache and twice as nasty smile, "Rain won't be stoppin' anytime soon. They'd all drown otherwise."

"That would be so bad?" Chuckled Match, tipping his black bowler hat to release the rain it had collected.

"That would be washing money down the drain," Janson laughed, sounding more like a washed-out rat than a person.

Hope pressed her forehead against her knees and closed her eyes, attempting to block out their voices while holding back her shudders from the cold.

A groan of metal sounded, and Hope looked over to see they were using their wands to lift metal enclosures. With a wet slurp, they unstuck themselves from the mud and guided them toward the already-made barn with a levitation charm.

She couldn't help but be a little fascinated by the use of these sticks they called wands to do things that should be otherwise impossible. Before she knew it, her enclosure lifted from the ground and headed toward the barn. Warmth flooded her as she entered. Being out of the rain and wedged between the Hippogriff and the Mooncalf enclosures gave her body a little extra warmth it had been craving.