The Amendment

Chapter Two

I sigh as I straighten my back with a couple snaps, and then carry the glass in the dustpan to the garbage in Dagon's bathroom. I watch as it slides into the garbage can, then freeze when I hear, "Jailynn?! Where are you?!"

I hurry out from the bathroom and then find Dagon looking around without a slight hint of appreciation in his eyes, and he barks, "What were you doing?"

"Just putting the glass into the garbage." I reply before I can think, and Dagon narrows his eyes at me with a cold but wolfish grin.

"Did you forget you're not supposed to speak?" He growls, his dark brown eyes narrowing as his pupils slit, making it look like he has cat eyes. I would like to figure out their purpose, going from slitted to normal and back someday, but now is definitely not the time.

I nod as he sighs, right before backhanding me roughly across the face. I don't stumble backwards, but I feel my eyes fill with tears at the pain. It feels as if I have sun burnt myself, then let hundreds of wasps sting the hot skin.

"You are not allowed to speak unless I grant you permission. Even if your life is threatened, you are not allowed to speak. Do you understand, Jailynn?" Dagon growls as I brush the tears from just below my bottom eyelashes, and I nod simultaneously.

"Good. Now, fix my bed, and when you're done, stand outside the door." Dagon orders crossly before strolling over to his chaise chair, then promptly flopping down. His wings spread out behind him as he sits down, and he leans forwards, his eyes digging into mine. 

I swallow hard and then turn to face his bed, still wrinkled and messed up. I realize he's going to just watch me, and I feel stress creep into my veins at the thought. He's creating chills for me, frightening me. Not much does make me petrified, but he's one of those things.

I stoop over his bed and start picking up his silky feathers, their soft after-feather parts tickling my hand. I keep a straight face as I pick up all of his incredible feathers, the sleekest feathers I've ever felt. I only pick up a couple before I bend down to untie my combat boots, putting them on the rocky floor. I think about crawling onto his bed because it's so big, and then I turn to face Dagon. He's watching me with narrowed eyes, and I gesture towards his bed with raised eyebrows.

"You are free to get on it." Dagon says sharply, and I nod before twisting back around and gracefully getting onto his soft dark blue sheets, and I continue to pluck the feathers from his bed. I end up with my hands full, and I get off of his bed to put the feathers in my boots. I get back onto his bed, and then pull more feathers from their hiding places, and return to my boots after I can't carry any more. I continue the process until I have all of his feathers stuffing my boots full, then pull Dagon's sheets off of his bed. I strip his pillow of its case, and then put the sheets by the door.

I turn to him with eyebrows raised, hoping he gets the message that I am wondering where his other bed sets must be.

"In the wardrobe, top left drawer." Dagon replies monotonously, his eyes locking on mine. His eyes are the most frightening part of him; they gaze into my soul like he can read my every thought, know all my secrets and my fears. I turn away from him before I can give him the satisfaction of seeing me nervous. I wander over to his cedar wardrobe, opening it as the wonderful smell hits my nose.

I pull out another bed set, a gray one with a black comforter, and then go back over to his bed, Dagon's eyes on me the whole time.

I case his pillow with the plain gray, then to the same to his mattress. I soon forget about Dagon's watching eyes and start humming a tune, one that's completely made up. It seems to lighten my mood, and I feel myself moving quicker, heading back to his comforter and picking it up with a slight grin. I strut back to his bed with quirky timing, and then hear, "You're not like any slave I've dreamed of. What is wrong with you?"