Filed To Story: Traded To The Lycan King Novel (Colette & Merikh) by MG Wattsons
A skinny woman moves to the bars closest to me. She is skin and bones. Her eyes are sullen and her hair falling out. But the resemblance lingers, the way I can feel who she is to me.
“Mom,” I whisper, and her eyebrows furrow.
“Fine.” I grit out.
The water shakes as I try to calm myself, but my wolf and my heart are too feral, too lost in our hatred to control it any longer. The water shoots up, swirling around the cell, gaining speed as I breathe deeply.
My fingers then twitch, flicking at this man, the water shooting at him like a harpoon released like a spear gun. His eyes grow wide and he roars, his jaw dropping open as a flame bursts out, turning the water into steam that floats to the top of the dungeon room.
He stands, a giddy grin on his face as he walks out of the cell and moves to the woman he claims is my mother. Then he hooks her by her ankle and drags her away, not a sound falling from her lips as her eyes meet mine.
“Where did they take her?” I ask the others in the cells around me. Not a single one of them answers. “What, now you to be quiet?”
“What are you?” Someone says, stepping into the light.
“What was he?” I ask instead of answering him.
“You tell us first,” He says back, sounding more harsh in his tone. His eyes focus on me, a full on scowl on his face.
decide “Lenard, stop.” The other hisses, grabbing onto his arm, but he shoves them off. “If you talk to her, we could get punished like Elle.”
“Back off. We have a right to know what she is, Trina. I mean, we both saw what she just did, right? She can manipulate water without magic.” He says before looking right at me. “So are you a siren, then?” Lenard asks, titling his head, curious.
I walk to the back wall, leaning against it with a defeated sigh.
“I am a Luna.” I whisper.
“But you used water, and sirens don’t have Luna’s. They have queens. I don’t understand…”
“Join the club,” I mutter, sliding down to the ground.
The cool brick makes me shiver and I welcome it, my face still warm from the man I assume is a dragon using his fucking fire to dissipate my attempt to escape him.
“You turned that water into a freaking harpoon and tried to kill him!” Lenard growls at me. “Magic can’t work in here. They have something that prevents its use, and with the silver bars, werewolves can’t transform, so you can’t be a witch or a werewolf.”
I chuckle dryly.
“I could be a fae. Who the fuck knows what those assholes can do? Other than get in your head and mess with it and control everyone they want.”
“You are not a Fae, because I am,” He says flatly. “And Fae are not all the same. Our powers vary and only the truly powerful have those abilities. The royals gain their strength from our people.”
“Oh, I am aware.” I snort. “I met your Queen Lily.”
“You did?” He seems genuinely shocked.
“Yeah, she’s a fucking bitch.” I mutter and he scoffs.
“She is wonderful.” He corrects me.
“Wonderful at starting wars and controlling people. She is wonderful at fucking people over and pretending it wasn’t her.”
He reaches at me through the bars, fury in his eyes as I just sit and blink at him. Clearly, this fae does not know that his beloved queen is working with the assholes who have them caged like a damn feral animal.
“You liar,” he hisses, and Trina yanks him back.
“I told you to shut up and leave her alone.” She hisses at him.
“How can you just sit there and let her say that about our queen? This bitch siren is making things up.”
“Elm was just as surprised as you. And I’m not a siren, not really. I mutter and they both freeze, Trina coming into the area where I can see her. Her hair is matted on one side, dirt smeared over her left brow and down her nose.
“You know King Elm?” she asks, licking her lips and moving closer. Lenard scoffs.
“She is lying. Just like she is lying about not being a siren.”
“Elm is kind and just.” I murmur.
A scream breaks through the dungeon, echoing off the walls and vibrating deep into my chest. Panic and fear settle in my bones as I swallow the lump in my throat. Is she really my mother? The one they are torturing? Giselle said she was still alive, and that man was breathing literal fire…
But if it is her, then what do they want with her? She should be dead, unless they still need something from her. So then why is she being punished?
“Sounds like they got the oil out again,” Trina whispers to Lenard. “She is going to be sick for a week.”
Lenard sighs, sounding annoyed. “Great. A week of this place smelling like fucking vomit before they clean it again.”
My chest is tight, a pain growing deeper and sharper where my heart is. I watch the area where they dragged her away, hoping for her to reemerge, but I am met with another terror inducing cry. She sounds so broken, almost hollow as her cries of agony echo around us, magnifying flutter in my soul.