Chapter 3: Mated With Blood: 3
Another day passed by. I was getting more bored than usual. Even though there wasn't any clock in this cell, during the years, I have developed a sense of time. And someone should have been here a long time ago with a plate of food. Just as I was getting more agitated, I could hear footsteps. I couldn't recognize them. That was someone I haven't met, yet. Curiously, I placed myself in a sitting position, lurking towards a growing sound.
At the other side of the bars appeared very appealing handsome face. I sniffed the air. Yet another, newly blinded Laric. "What is your number?" I curiously asked.
He stayed silent for a long time before he finally spoke up. "I am the number of the Laric that I replaced. Number 30. From now on, I will carry out his duties." He had soft and foreign accent. He is not from around here. Maybe America.
"How does it feel to be ripped out of your birth given sight?" I tried to sound concerned but the hint of mock could be sensed in my tone.
He must picked up on it, since his response was a bit harsher then what I expected. "How does it feel to be locked inside in here?" It was actually pleasant to hear his voice.
"If I only knew how you slaves lived on the other side, I would have locked myself." For the first time, I was disappointed he was blind, hence, he could not see the grin forming on my face.
He was about to leave when I said "Wait! I have a proposal." The stupid dog didn't stop. "I will give you my food!" I tried once more and this time he did stop in his tracks. I guess, you can always bribe a dog with a food.
"Look, I know you dogs are starving out there and I won't pretend that I am doing this because I am your friend. I am not. I could never see someone of your rank as anything more the a mere slave." I sighed. "But you have something I want. The answers to my questions. And I am willing to trade my food for that information." He was still turned with his back so I couldn't read into his face.
"No one has to know." I tried to sound reassuring and wash away his doubts, that is, If he had any.
He stayed quiet for a bit longer before he snarled at me. "I would never betray my Master like this." Stupid dog. You can starve to death as far as I am concerned.
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Next Day
Number 30 was standing yet again in front of my cell bars with the plate of bread and butter. He placed it on the ground and slide it towards me. This time though, he didn't look so sure of himself anymore. I could smell uncertainty washed all over him. I suppressed a laugh. I have never seen a grown men, a Larick to be precise, so torn up and all because of bread and butter. This was hilarious.
"Hello number 30." I greeted him. He nervously bowed in response. Pathetic.
"Are you sure you don't won't a bite." I teased. He looked even more uncomfortable than before. It's not so easy to be all tough when the offering is right in front of your nose, is it, dog.
"I could really use some food." He sighed in defeat.
"Of course. Even a dog has to eat something. " I uttered sympathetically.
"But I can't. The Master will know." He let the the frustrated growl.
"Not If you wash up afterwards." I suggested.
"You don't understand. He can smell my insides."
"You mean, like your intestines?" I asked in pure amusement. He nodded.
"Well that is certainly a nose you wouldn't want to be gifted with." I barely contained a laugh that threatened to escape my mouth.
"You can always throw up you know. Like anorexic people do." I tried to convince him further.
If the Original Werewolf can really smell his intestines, he can smell the acid, that forms after throwing up too. If number 30 touches my food, no matter what he does next, he is a dead men. I just hope that the dog is stupid enough not to know that.
"Okay, I will answer only to one question." He exclaimed. I smirked. It turns out he actually is as stupid as he looks like. I got him.
"And I will give only one small bite." I responded. "For every question, one bite." I teased further.
I have to make him feel safe so doesn't retreat after first question. I will start with an easy one. "How is decided who is given which number?"
"The strongest Laric is given number 1, the weakest number 30."
Suddenly I felt insulted. "Why am I given the weakest five Larics? Will I ever meet someone who is more worthy like of being in my presence?"
He pointed at food and I ripped a piece of bread and threw it in his direction. Quickly, in one swift movement, he caught it. Since it seems Larics truly didn't need a sight to function, unlike the average Alphas did, If it was up to me, I would take eyes from all thirty of them.
"Bringing you food and clean clothes doesn't require a particular set of skills for a higher ranking Laric to come down here."
I huffed and ripped yet another piece of bread. Annoyed, I threw it in his direction. This one was a waste, since, I could predict this answer myself.
"How does your Master look like." I asked and surprised myself with the question I asked. Why did I even care about Him?
"He always wears a mask on his face. No one knows how he looks like." He quickly responded, eagerly waiting for another piece of food.
I wasn't satisfied with the answer. "Just because you don't know how he looks like doesn't mean that the higher ranking Laric doesn't either."
"Even laric number 1 doesn't know anything more than I do. He keeps his distance from everyone." I frowned. That lack of bond between Him and other Larics would explain His easy making decisions on making some of them blind.
"It must be delightful to serve someone who cares so little about you." I poked.
"We don't desire His care but His commands." He declared.
"Oh, aren't you just dream dogs one could only wish for." I sarcastically rolled my eyes at him.
He pointed at food. "I am not about to give you a piece for useless answer you fed me with."
He stayed silent. "I am sure you can think of something useful, worth sharing." I tried to stimulate his dead brain cells.
"He radiates with such power. I have never felt anything like that before." I noticed that he carefully chose the words when describing Him. Almost as If He was God himself.
"His every step is painfully measured. Always aware of surroundings. His eyes aggressively calm." He continued.
"How would you describe that power He holds?" I asked. His change of tone and demeanor pulled me in. I wanted to know more. More about this Monster.
"The kind of power where you kill your own mate, only If He orders for you to do It." He looked so pained that he totally forgot to ask for a food. Great. The only thing more annoying than a hungry Laric is a whining Laric.
"Is every pack in this world as fuc**ed up as this one?" I said more to myself than to him.
"I am pretty sure we hold the record" He answered and for the first time I genuinely laughed.
I have one final question I am most eager to find answer to but for this one I will need more than a bread to bribe him with. What can I offer beside a bread? Connection and closeness. Now, I have to play the role of the lifetime. It's my best chance of getting the answer to a question I was asking myself for the last eighteen years.
"What is your name?" I asked him with gentle voice.
"Number 30." He simply responded.
"I mean your real name. Birth given name." I pushed.
"I don't have one." He said as If this was the most normal thing on the world. For him, It was.
"Can I give you one then?" I hope to God, that sounded sincere. At least, more sincere than my heart was.
He stayed silent too long for my linking. "Yes." He finally spoke up.
After few strategically, silent and long moments, I placed between us, I finally said "John."
"Why John?" He slowly asked.
"Your accent is the same as the one from the Laric who served me long time ago. He told me he was from America and how there is eternal summer. I doubt that is a true tough." I weakly smiled.
"Every time I heard your voice, I was reminded that there exists some place other than this one down here." I sighed. "Anyways, his name was Mike. It is the only American name I know."
He stayed quiet. "Do you like it?" I asked. After what seemed like a decade he nodded with his head. "I like it very much."
This sucker fell for it. Eternal summer? Mike- the only American name I know? Really? Does he think I am that dumb? For once, his stupidity played in my favor. The part of showing compassion and making connection was checked.
"I have one final question Mike." Almost unnoticeably he twitched with his body.
"You can have all the bread afterwards. You can have it for the rest of your days." Not that he will need it after today when the Master smells the acid in him and kills him.
"Just one question and it's all yours." I was offering him heaven and he tensed at my words. He must have sensed this time it will not be an easy one to answer.
I Inhaled deeply. "What am I to the Original Werewolf. What am I to do Jaroslav Tacin." He completely froze at my question. I was right. It will not be easy to find an answer.
"Please Mike. I need to know. Wy is keeping me a prisoner here?" He turned his back at me and start heading out of the dungeon. No!
"Mike, please, wait! Mike, please!" I yelled behind him and for a moment he stopped.
"Don't you know?"
"No, I don't. Please Mike, tell me." Every time I had to said please to this filthy dog, my tung burned like it was on a fire.
"You smell just like Him." He said so quietly I almost didn't catch it.
"What?"
"You are His daughter. You are the only one His kind is capable of loving so I don't know why He locked you up in here. No one does." With those words he left.
I was right about one thing. After that day, I never saw him again.
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- Comfortable enough to think you'll take her
But when she smiles, all her teeth are made of razors-
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