Chapter 6 THE IMPOSSIBLE CLAIM
The wine glass shattered in Lucian's hand, cutting into his palm before clattering to the floor. But he stood unmoving, the cut in his palm stitching up with speed before his blood even dropped to the floor.
He was standing in front of his table, staring at the very spot he'd taken Selene an hour ago.
Something had shifted inside him, something he could not name, but he knew it made him lose control.
This was exactly why he hated witches; with their little tricks, they could make anyone believe something was tied in their minds.
He turned away, heading over to his window to draw his thick, dark curtains apart. His glass, gothic windowpanes were tightly shut, but he could still overlook the mountain from his high chambers.
For the first time in a very long time, he wanted to hunt; he wanted to feel the blood drain off an animal as he sank his teeth in and sucked it dry.
He wanted to do anything that would get Selene's whimpering image out of his head.
He was a king and he had had sex slaves since the beginning of time, yet none had ever been worth pondering over, and... he never released his seed inside them—something he had so uncontrollably done with Selene.
A cold smile curled the side of his lips.
He had a secret—a secret that would further break Selene if she ever found out that her little mind game was futile.
With a determined mind, Lucian pulled open his window and jumped out of it before he could change his mind.
He welcomed the wind crossing his face and skin as he fell freely and weightlessly toward the ground, and the moment his feet noiselessly landed outside the Ravenwyck gate, he marched into the mountains without a backward glance.
Selene sat on her tiny bed after having scrubbed her skin until it almost bled in the washroom.
She could still feel him between her legs, and it only amplified her rage. How she prayed for Lucian's death; even though he was immortal, she would spend her last blood searching for his vulnerability, and when she found it... she would utilize it to the best of her capabilities.
She needed to take something to flush out any of that devil's seed that had been planted inside her; the last worst thing that could happen to her is to birth Lucian's child. It would be an eternal curse and a source of pain to her. Heaven knows she might end up killing that child with her own hands just to despise the devil king.
Her door suddenly flew open, and that blonde slave from earlier walked into her room, but this time, she wasn't alone; she had two werewolf girls on each side of her.
Selene didn't bother to ask them what they were doing in her room; she knew it was for trouble. After all, all her life, she had felt like an outcast, never belonging to either side of her bloodline—not to the wolves who despised her, nor to the witches who were either dead or held captive by Lucian.
"The rumors are true... she was called by the King," the blonde girl sneered, folding her arms as she glared hatefully at Selene.
"She's no match for your beauty, Dianne. You are the King's favorite toy," the girl on the left, Grace, snickered.
"She's a witch. The King hates witches; he'll be done with her soon and she will be thrown into the dungeon, just like her kind," the girl on the right, Anna, laughed wickedly.
Dianne marched forward, pausing right in front of Selene. "You'd do well to stay out of my sight, ugly witch. Do you hear me?" she asked in a sinister tone.
Selene was silent, clutching her aching stomach in anger. She hated everything and everyone, wishing she would have died with her mother nineteen years ago.
"Did you not hear me?" Dianne snapped.
Selene sighed, shutting her eyes to ease her pounding headache.
"How dare you! She's ignoring Dianne!" Grace gasped.
Dianne's face turned red from anger. Suddenly, Dianne lunged forward and slapped Selene across the cheek, the sound cracking across the room.
Selene was pushed to the side from the force, the side of her head colliding heavily with the metal frame of her bed.
Yet, she made no sound, even as blood oozed down the side of her face.
Slowly, she lifted her face, staring at Dianne with expressionless eyes. "Are you happy? Do you want to hurt me more to feel better?" she chuckled softly.
"Go ahead. I prefer your hands on me to that monster's hands–"
"How dare you–"
"Dianne," Anna gasped, grabbing Dianne's hand mid-air as she was about to strike Selene again.
"Do not hurt her again. I hear Dorothy coming. Hurry, let's leave," Anna quickly pulled Grace out of the room.
But Dianne did not leave without throwing a threatening glare at Selene, a silent promise that their battle was far from over.
Selene stared at the door, her bottom lip quivering as tears once again rolled down her cheeks.
"I curse you, Lucian. I curse your bloodline. I curse you!" she screamed, falling back onto her bed in exhaustion.
Her days had always ended in sorrow, but tonight was different—life-altering. She could feel that this journey was about to end her.
Footsteps sounded outside in the hallway and Selene immediately sat up, breathing heavily as she readied herself for another confrontation.
However, Dorothy walked in with a maid behind her carrying a tray with a covered earthen bowl.
"Drop it," Dorothy ordered.
The maid placed the tray on the floor and immediately left the room.
"Drink this. It's nourishing and healing. The King specifically asked that you maintain your body for him."
A bitter laugh burst out of Selene's lips, her eyes narrowing at the bowl of nourishment.
"I will not drink it," she said simply, holding back her tears.
Dorothy showed a mysterious smile. "Then you will take yourself up to the King's chamber and tell him exactly that," she stated.
Selene froze, fingers curling in a withheld rage. Dorothy was evil, just like her master. She knew Selene would give her life never to be sent up to the King again, yet she suggested she go up and tell him directly that she was refusing his order.
Her silence was proof of her defeat.
She leaned over and picked up the warm bowl, taking off the lid. It was a strange soup, made with mushrooms and wild herbs. It didn't smell quite disgusting, but it did not smell edible either.
She lifted it to her lips, ready to take a sip, but before the earthen bowl could touch her lips, Selene paused, lifting her face to Dorothy.
"I will drink this, but may I make a request?" she asked slowly, aware that she had no right to make any requests.
But Dorothy did nod. "What is your request, Selene?" she questioned calmly.
Selene hesitated, and then she brought the bowl to her lips, slurping the soup down in a few gulps. It didn't taste as bad as she imagined, but it was still not what she would prefer to eat on a daily basis.
Gently, she placed the bowl back onto the tray and stood, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Yes?" Dorothy tilted her head the slightest, waiting on Selene.
Selene chewed on the insides of her cheek, battling for words to convey her message without sounding stupid.
"I may be with child," she blurted out, shifting her feet uncomfortably.
Dorothy was quiet, showing no signs of surprise or shock. "Well, then, we shall have the healer prepare a termination herbal drink for you. If the King should find out that he purchased a pregnant slave, you will be in great danger. Follow me." She turned, ready to leave.
"Wait," Selene called, hurrying to follow Dorothy.
Dorothy paused at the door, looking back at Selene with disappointment. "Do you perhaps have anything that is of concern again? Do you have an illness I should worry of? Well, it's not like the King can contract it, but other slaves might, and myself–"
"No, Ms. Dorothy," Selene cut her off, unable to hold it in anymore. "You misunderstand me, Ma'am," she murmured, biting her lower lip.
"Then you are not with child?" Dorothy's voice was filled with impatience.
Selene shook her head. "I am not sure yet. But that is not the matter. I am afraid I might already be forming a life inside me... a life the King so brutally put in me," she finally said, panting.
Dorothy was expressionless for a while, and then, suddenly, she laughed. It was a purely shocked laughter—not loud, not happy, just a sound to convey how shocked she was and how crazy Selene sounded.
Selene frowned slightly, watching the stoic lady laugh, and wondered if what she had said was truly funny.
Dorothy inhaled quietly, masking her face once again with a stoic expression. "You are not carrying the King's child, Selene," she assured calmly.
Selene gritted her teeth, angry.
Yes, she might not be with child right away, but she did not want to risk the chances of letting a monster form within her. Perhaps she should have been quiet and let Dorothy believe that she was pregnant from someone else; now, her only chance at flushing her womb was gone.
"Please, Ms. Dorothy, help me, I do not want to bear that monster's child –"
"You shall not speak of the King as such," Dorothy snapped.
Selene stepped back, bile rising in her throat as her stomach churned with hate.
"He put his seed in me, Ms. Dorothy... I might be with his child," Selene whispered.
Dorothy froze, her eyes locking on Selene for a long minute.
"That is impossible," Dorothy murmured, stepping closer to Selene. "What you just uttered is impossible. Be careful, Selene, you're putting your life in grave danger," she warned eerily.
