Silver Skin

3

Triple moon
~
Lycus
~

A loud clatter of a fist pounding against bars woke Lycus up.

And relief found him for it. Even if it was momentary and fleeting. But relief, nonetheless.

Lycus couldn't trust his dreams. They had a tendency of turning into nightmares.

But he would rather be in his dreams, then out there — in the walls of the castle with splattered blood, rotted lycans and a queen that never let Lycus see the light of day.

Equally, all of it was bad. The dreams, the wakeful nightmares ...

The silk sheets, pristine rooms, and exquisite food draped in deceitful luxury were traded in long ago after that collar locked around his throat.

Lycus's eyelids slid open and met the sinister grin of a guard with a sword behind his back.

Lycus suppressed a groan and rolled on his back, scraping his skin against the cold concrete.

He didn't want to see a guard in the ... morning? Night? Lycus didn't know what degree the sun was at or if the moon was at its fullest. He lost track of time ages ago.

Lycus thought it had been forever. An everlasting nightmares of being parted from them all.

From time to time, the scent of roses fuelled him and those warm brown eyes enticed his every other thought.

But being down here, in this hell, ripped it all from him just as he caught it. Her scent, face, body — her humility no longer sustained him. Kept him at bay. Or tamed him.

Lycus found no point in it anymore.

The guard rattled the bars again. "Get up. It's time."

Not knowing if sleep would come to him again, Lycus stood up and stretched, stalling.

Lycus counted the minutes that passed as he took a piss, drank the last droplet of water in his bowl and took off his pants, entirely nude, knowing he would need a pair of dirty pants later if he survived this.

The cell door opened and Lycus was escorted out by the guard, who had unsheathed his sword. 

It jutted to Lycus's face in warning before shifting against his back.

The sword pressed into Lycus's back as they walked on.

"You know where to go, so lead the way." The guard sneered, pressing the tip of the blade against his spine.

Lycus walked ahead, still feeling the pressure of a pointy blade on his back and took them down many halls in this never-ending, labyrinth of a dungeon.

They went left twice, and right thrice until they were stopped by another guard who stood by a large, metal door.

"Bring him in," the guard posted by the door grunted and gestured them through the threshold. "They're growing impatient in there, the other lycan just had his throat removed."

Lycus bristled, goosebumps rousing in his skin and they ambled inside a large room. Steam enveloped the huge layout and running water overflowed Lycus's ears.

Many figures were occupying the area. Guard posted at every entrance, beckoning every stall and shower that was occupied and lycans ambled about, tending to their wounds or preparing for them.

Some were in human form, most were not. Unlike Lycus, they had a choice in the matter.

The room stank of blood and unclean fur, but it was nicely maintained with lockers attached to walls, showers and toilets for anyone to use before or after their match.