HIS HIGHNESS

5

5 ◇ Marked

Not having much else to do when left to my own devices with my hands bound, I glance around this place where a werewolf lives. The werewolves that are so great. The ones that triumph over us.

Yet not just any werewolf.

The leader of their kind.

The Alpha.

That is something incredible. Probably a bit intimidating to many. But I don't get that at all here. Such a peculiar thing.

I can only observe. And I am here without a proper train of thought.

First of all, everything in here is rich.

Wealthy.

Even the satin brown of the curtains were of a rich texture which makes my hand itch to touch and sink into them. Or probably it is the itch for freedom. I am still bond after all.

However, it can be seen that it is a home, not a showroom like what I expected. Maybe that is an illusion too from being freedom deprived. Don't they have a name for this? Or is it simply hallucinations. Sighing, I continue my appraisal of the place. As much as I can at least.

The more I look, the more I am convinced this place is treated as a home. Not just a design to seem that way. Even though the chair to the corner looks large and comfortable, you can see the creases in the leather that may have been permanently etched there due to some late night readings or simply an area for paranoid thoughts and sleepless nights.

That thought caught me a bit off guard since my intuition was never wrong. Or was it just me jumping to conclusions? Only happened once in my lifetime. I guess I can say this is the second time. Is it more? Everything seems way too confusing right now.

I need food. My stomach feel blotched from eating air for too long. The struggles of a human. Or rather a witch.

Sighing, I rest my head against the bed. My neck is beginning to feel pained from craning my neck to thoroughly inspect the room. But I can't seem to focus on much else when I am in this prison without any sort of plan to escape. Despite the comfortable bed, I can't seem to fall asleep. My thoughts are racing with questions and possible answers. Well, I really don't want to sleep. Sleeping in the place of the enemy can be dangerous.

I find it strange though. He did say I am a witch. Everyone was there to hear of it. All witness that concrete observation which despite having no proof, his word is law. Is it not?

I chuckle at that. Not to me, but these people...the fear. So much to sigh about these days. But why am I still alive? It can't be because I am his mate. The stories I heard definitely gave an idea of just how much they hated witches and vampires.

It has me second guessing those stories. These things have my head pounding. My senses are spiraling now. What a mess I am in. So....again.

Why am I not dead?

"Well, first off, you seem not to realize just how much a mate means to a werewolf," one of the deepest voices I have ever heard in my lifetime comes from the room. I am shocked at the very least. When did he get in here? I mean, he looks pretty heavy and those doors look pretty solid. Am I getting deaf now? Wait, how is it he heard what I was saying in my thoughts? "And the real reason is because you are my mate."

I look at him and then shut my eyes. This is beyond good reasoning. So what if I am his mate? He can go ahead and get a new one right? I lay my head back, trying to swallow what he is saying.

"Let me leave and I promise you I will kill myself," he laughs. My eyes snap open at that. His laugh is vibrating through me and that is not good. I look up at him and he is beside the bed, directly in my line of sight now. It would have been a strain otherwise if he stood at the end of the bed. "Like...my dad will bring you my head on a platter."