Chapter 49: Chapter 49

Fear slivers up my spine and threatens to strangle me. How in a few short days my entire life has crashed and burned, and now I’m left with the rubble of desolation.

“Do you think he will?” I ask him and he shrugs.

“Depends. It’s hard to say with Zeke. He’s unpredictable. Zeke will probably make you suck him off, or maybe wank him when you have to bathe him.” He says, like it is no big deal and completely normal to speak of someone’s torture. Bile rises in my throat and a sliver of hope fills me when an idea occurs to me and I roll to face him.

“Can I keep Gnash for the night?” I ask him.

“Definitely not!” he says quickly, and I press my lips in a line to stop them from quivering because he shut me down and squashed that hope so quickly without even considering it.

Getting up, I move toward the bathroom. “What are you doing?”

“Showering. I’m fucking doomed either way. I rather he kills me this morning than rape me tonight!”

“No, I am not losing my fucking throne because of you!” Regan snarls, sitting up quickly.

“Fuck your throne! I have nothing to lose, right? So why the fuck should I worry about what you do?” I ask him. Disgusted with how he can so casually speak of his brother raping and killing me.

“I offered to drug him for you.” he snarls.

“Give me Gnash!”

“No!” I throw my arms up in the air, turning on my heel, feeling done with this conversation because I will not get anywhere with any of these men. King Theron is a fool if he thinks there is even a sliver of humanity left in any of them. Gripping the door handle, I shove open the door.

“If I give you Gnash, he’ll hurt him. I know my brother! You think I want him to hurt you?” I stop, turning back to look at him.

“Well, duh, you’re okay with him raping me!” I retort.

“I never said I was. I only said it was inevitable when it comes to him. Not once did I say I wanted him to.” Regan snarls.

“No, but you threatened to do it the first time I met you, so you’re just as bad as him!”

“I am nothing like him!” he screams at me.

“So it would be different if you raped me?” I scoff, shaking my head.

“I wouldn’t intentionally hurt you!” I blink at his logic, intentionally hurt me, he does realize raping someone would do more than hurt them, right?

“Same monster, different logic and excuses for such behavior!” I spit at him.

“You fucking challenged me!” I blink at him, trying to understand what he is even thinking or how that would even make sense.

“So that gives you permission?” I ask completely dumbstruck by this entire conversation.

“I’m not human! You can’t challenge us. We will retaliate and you won’t like it. I can’t help what I am! Do you think a normal dog asks permission before he mounts a bitch? Or any creature for that matter?”

“So you’re a dog?” I laugh.

“No — but it’s the same. Instinct is the same: hunt and kill: command and submit, and you didn’t submit. You fought back! And you challenged me. You say I’m a monster but I didn’t kill you, did I? I wanted to! Prey and predator, it’s not my fault you ended up on the crappy end of the food pyramid.” He yells at me.

“So what about your so-called human side? That is for nothing?” I question.

“We are less human than you think! We look human in this form, but our instincts and needs are controlled by our true form, Zirah. Rationally, we know it is wrong, but our baser instinct will always overrule the human counterpart in us. The more you refuse, the harder we’ll try to mate with you. The faster you run, the more we’ll hunt you. And if it’s a full moon, all of that is ten times stronger. We are creatures of the night, not children of the fucking sun! Creatures Zirah! Not fucking human!” he yells.

Regan exhales and rubs his temples like he has a headache. “Hunting and killing is as easy as breathing for us as it is for someone like you, instinct, instinctively you breathe. It’s similar, only more sinister. That is the best way I can describe it.” he concludes.

So either way, I’m doomed then. Nodding, I head for the bathroom.

“Wait!” Regan calls out and I internally groan, I am over debating with him on right and wrong. Turning around, Gnash is sitting on the floor watching us, his fur covered in blood.

Regan growls glaring at the floor. “I’ll get you the wolfsbane.” Regan offers, lifting his head and looking at me.

“But if you get caught with it, I didn’t give it to you,” he tells me.

“Really?” I ask him, hopeful. I could kill two birds with one stone if he gives me the wolfsbane. I can use some on Zeke to help me escape and rebrand these runes that are fading.

“Do we have a deal?” Regan asks, but that won’t solve my problem of spending all day with him, but it is better than nothing.

Moving toward the bed, I climb back on it. Regan exhales and lays back down and stares at the ceiling.

My mind is moving a hundred miles an hour with different scenarios and different outcomes that torment me when he moves, drawing my attention to him. I find my eyes taking him in and I glance at the runes etched into his skin.

“The runes? What are they for?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he states, returning to pretending I am not here. Laying back down, I stare at the ones covering his shoulder, taking in the massive design, but the more I look, the more I notice it isn’t a tattoo but burns like mine.

Reaching out, I trace my finger over one, feeling the skin, the silky yet rough texture, different from the rest of his skin. “It’s a burn, not a tattoo,” I murmur, and he turns his head to look at me.

“Litha did it. When she burned, we burned along with her,” he says. He almost looks like he regrets killing her.

I trace the pattern of one particular rune that grandma said gives me the element of air. Yet why would he need it?

“You need to stop that, Zirah,” Regan speaks coldly, and my eyes move to his to see they are pitch black. My reflection is mirrored back at me in them, and I move my hand away when something occurs to me.

“Maybe Zeke doesn’t have to be my first encounter with a naked man?” I murmur, my face heating as the words spill from my lips at what I just asked him.