Lord of the forest

The room

Boy POV:

Slowly, the boy came to. He lay on a huge, king-sized bed in a dimly lit room from which the windows were missing, just like the emptiness that centered on the cold, wooden floor. Confusion swirled through his brain as, shrouded in a mist of uncertainty, he struggled to remember what had happened. All he was certain of was that he had been attacked, but he could not explain who or why.

Slowly, the Boy's senses quickened as his eyes began to scan the room. The smell of aged wood and musty fabric filled his nostrils. The dim light stretched its thinly distanced shadows across his wall, which danced like dark spirits. The room was silent-utter silence-with the soft sound of his very breathing and the quiet rustling of his body against the fabric of his bedding as he stirred.

An attempt to sit up was answered with a wave of dizziness that sent him back onto the bed, fingers clutching desperately at the thin mattress as panic surged through him, glaring in the way his wide eyes sparked in his chest like a caged bird desperate for freedom.

And then suddenly, from one shadow to another, a man in his hansom, Asher, found himself before him, regarding him. He stood tall and imperious, with hair as black as pitch, and his iron gaze-eyes that viewed Boy with coldly detachable eyes-made his blood run cold.

"You're awake," Asher stated flatly, his voice emotionless. "I'm sorry for the way it went down. That wasn't supposed to happen."

The Boy eyed him suspiciously, a shadow of doubt glinting in his mossy-green eyes. "Who are you? What do you want from me?" he demanded, his voice trembling with both fear and defiance.

Asher's eyes narrowed, hardening, the expression on his face revealing no remorse, no sign of weakness. "Asher," he said in simple return. "What I want from you is none of your business. You happen to be here because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Nothing more, nothing less."

The words from Asher turned the Boy cold, like winter frost. He sensed then that he was nothing more than a pawn in Asher's twisted game-one played without emotion and compassion.

The Boy could do nothing at present except bide his time and wait for whatever fate had been prepared for him in this cold, alien place. As he fell into an uncomfortable sleep with his head filled with foreboding and unease, he couldn't help but wander what darkness lay at the center of this man, Asher.