Leila of the Prey [Book Six]

The Beast

  The ache in my leg was getting worse and kept me awake late at night. I tried to soothe the anger of the wound, but nothing I did would work. I could only hope the pain would ease the more I healed.

  Raphael brought me warm food to try and help. Whether his help came from a bleeding heart or fear of losing my usefulness to the group, I couldn't tell. Either way, I didn't trust him enough to let my guard down. I would take the food just to survive, but I would not cooperate.

  I knew a fever set in when I was sweaty and hot no matter how cool the breeze was. The swelling and discoloration of the gash on my leg told me infection had set in despite Raphael's attempts to prevent it. The Frenchmen didn't have medicine with them beyond basic bandages and remedies for upset stomachs.

  I had to either fight the infection on my own or die.

  The days blurred together, and it became more difficult to eat. I was getting sicker instead of better; the Frenchmen knew it as well just by looking at me. Raphael attempted to convince the men to give me more time to rest, and better sleeping accommodations, but they ignored him and tied me out as bait one more time.

  However, unlike the other times, they tied me to a tree and cleaned my face. The man wiping a cloth over my forehead spoke a few words as another man was tightening the rope. I hissed from the sting of the fibers digging into my wrists.

  "He says you should scream as much as you like." Raphael translated while unable to look me in the eye.

  "Why? Have a bear quota to meet?" I scoffed while leaning against the tree and glaring at the man holding my jaw to keep my face still.

  "....It's not bear we hunt today." Raphael muttered, and my gaze shot to him. The man holding my jaw rubbed the cloth over my cheek to clean off the smudge of dirt.

  "What do you mean? Raphael, what are they hunting?" He clenched his jaw before speaking.

  "A beast."

  The man who had been tying the rope came around the tree to let the other man know that he was done. The hand on my jaw moved away before the man with the dirty cloth pulled out a knife. He spoke, and I turned to Raphael, waiting for his translation.

  "She should be more appealing now. Such a waste she goes to the beast."

  "What fucking beast?" I questioned with fear settling in. The man with the knife raised the blade toward my chest. The cool metal pressed against the top swell of my breast and cut. After making me bleed, they all left me alone. "What beast?!" I yelled after them before they disappeared through the trees.

  Groaning as I leaned back against the tree, I tried to take some weight off my injured leg. The blood dripping down my chest was only a reminder of how there was no way out of this. Whatever creature I was bait for this time would no doubt find me like this if a different predator didn't do it first.

  I had heard the calls of many animals at night, I knew there were more things that could kill out here than just the bears. The Frenchmen must've thought it was better to serve me to their next big hunt than to have me waste away from the sickness. The infection wasn't healing and they didn't have medicine, might as well get rid of me in a way that benefitted them.

  The fever and the scent of my own blood made me feel nauseous. Closing my eyes, I took slow, deep breaths. Rolling my hands, I tried to see if the rope was loose in any way even though I knew it wasn't. The birds calling from the trees felt as if they were mocking me.

  I tried to calm myself but knowing what would happen soon kept my heart racing. I was going to get mauled by something and could only hope I'd die quickly. If the animal chose not to go for my throat first, my last experience alive would be getting torn apart.