Isolde.
Isolde.
The rule was simple-follow the instructions of the male you are assigned to, or face consequences.
The keeper's instructions rang in Isolde's mind as she stood before the crowd of males that had entered the establishment. Males who carried an air of danger. The whispers from other attendants, the females trained by the keeper, were that these males arrived from the North, which meant the men were from Bloomington, a land with a fearsome reputation.
Rogue lycans and other beings occupied Bloomington, and from the looks of it, the men in the tavern were formidable.
They called out with enthusiasm, raising their tankards together as they drank and made offers for the attendants lined up on the stage. Isolde clasped her hands together just like the others, reciting the keeper's instructions all over again in her mind.
"Thirty gold coins for the redhead," Another of the males rose and made an offer. Of course, no one surpassed him. And as he demanded, the male took the redhead, Rinna. Isolde recognized her from their training.
Rinna trembled and walked ahead to meet the male who had paid for her company. The shaking of her body was a clear sign of her fear. Isolde winced when she saw the male grasp Rinna firmly. A sound of satisfaction escaped his lips.
His companions encouraged him when he took hold of Rinna's hair, angling her head. With a low sound, he pressed his lips to hers in a firm kiss. Rinna could hardly keep her composure.
Isolde heard Rinna's sounds of discomfort and shuddered. That was what they'd been enduring for ages now. Discomfort in the hands of men who viewed them as lesser beings. When Rinna was led away by the male into one of the rooms in the inn, Isolde's eyes watered.
The offers continued with loud laughter drowning out the music sung by the group of singers in the corner. The keeper stood by, calling out the prices as if all the attendants were items to trade.
"A hundred pieces of gold for the raven-haired,"
Isolde's heart raced when she heard the man in a black robe make an offer for her. A hundred pieces of gold were an immense sum! How could someone pay such an amount just for companionship?
When the man stood, Isolde gave him a quick look, and right then she knew this man was dangerous. The kind of danger she needed to avoid. His dark eyes met hers, and she shrank under his intense gaze. He gave her a look that made her skin prickle.
Isolde felt her heart pounding with beads of sweat coating her skin.
"Lord Draken, you've made an offer for a most special attendant," The keeper said with a pleased grin on her face. She ran her eyes over Isolde and nodded her head. "Go, Isolde, attend to the Lord."
Isolde moved on trembling legs until she stood before the lord. He carried a severe scent, and it unsettled her. Even though her instincts screamed to escape, Isolde didn't know how to accomplish that with all these males here, seemingly surrounding the lord.
While her heart quivered, Isolde still complied, letting the lord touch her skin, run his hand down the nape of her neck, and over to her navel.
The bindings on her chest felt tight against her skin as the man's hand skimmed over them before reaching for the garment tied around her waist. She felt too exposed around him. Too vulnerable.
"You have such a pleasant form," The lord said, his strong breath wafting over her face. "And it shall please me to have such a pleasant form beside me tonight,"
Lord Draken placed his hand on her arm and, without delay, he led her along the hall to the inn while his men called out and clapped.
Shallow breaths made it out of her mouth as the lord led her through the hall of the inn. Their footsteps sounded over the floor. Isolde shuddered at the sounds of other attendants seeping out of the rooms they were in.
As they passed by some of the rooms, she heard the sound of impact, while in the others, she heard the rhythmic sound of movement and the distressed sounds of the attendants.
The keeper had told them that some males prefer intensity, and they were meant to attend to their patrons in whichever manner they choose. Though Isolde knew all these, the thought of having to go through it again tonight frightened her. And from her quick observation, Lord Draken seemed to be the type that preferred a strong approach.
She made a sound as she stumbled over the wooden floor when Lord Draken directed her into the room.
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The floorboard creaked under his weight while he pinned his dark eyes on Isolde. Eyes full of intensity.
"Master..." She kneeled before him, lowering her head. That was how the keeper instructed them to acknowledge their patron.
"You've been taught well. So vulnerable, just the way I prefer." He stepped into her space and took her chin, lifting Isolde's head. His thumb brushed over her lips, and a smirk curled his. "Let's see what this night can achieve. If you attend to me well, I shall double the keeper's pay,"
She nodded, letting him believe he'd have her cooperation. Isolde's mind raced as she thought of the easiest way to avoid this situation.
In the depths of her mind, Isolde knew there was no avoiding the discomfort as long as she was in this place. Hence, her only chance at avoiding it was to flee. To escape the walls of Kalingrad.
At that moment, a thought came to her. Maybe it might not be the best, but she was willing to try. After serving for years as an attendant in Kalingrad, it was time Isolde made her escape.
"Rise," Lord Draken ordered, and with resolve, she stood. She was half his height, and yet Isolde was willing to defy the lord if she had to.
He took a look at her features and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers as he touched her form firmly. Isolde complied, letting the lord dominate the kiss while she skimmed her hand down his waist.
Her fingers ran over the sheath fastened around his waist, and cautiously, she pulled out the lord's blade.
Lord Draken, distracted, noticed a second too late as Isolde pressed the blade against his side.
"You!" He roared, stumbling on his feet as liquid seeped from the wound. A sound filled his mouth while Isolde watched the act she had committed, moisture coating her palms.
Attendants were not allowed to cause harm, but she had caused her patron discomfort, and if his men were to come alongside the keeper, Isolde's safety would be in danger.
"Agholf! Warren!!" Lord Draken roared, staggering toward her.
He was calling on his men, Isolde realized. She quickly snapped out of her daze, only to see Lord Draken trying to grab her.
Without wasting a minute, Isolde pressed the blade against his hand. She bolted for the window while the lord roared in discomfort, shouting after her.
Stepping over the ledge, Isolde jumped down a second before Lord Draken's men entered the room.
"My lord..." The men stuttered at the sight of Draken. The keeper rushed in, gasping when she saw the injured lord.
"Heavens, my lord..." She quivered as Lord Draken turned on her.
"You led me to believe she'd give me the most pleasure! Is this it? Your twisted form of pleasure? A blade to my side and hand!?" He roared and pushed the keeper away.
The woman stumbled to the floor, moving away as she pleaded.
It was a huge blow to the lord's pride that he was overcome by a mere female, and he swore not to let Isolde escape from his grasp.
Turning to his men with fire burning in his eyes, he declared, "Go find her!"
"Yes, my lord," The men nodded in unison and fled out of the inn to search for Isolde.
Isolde raced through the woods after causing the guard at the gate of Kalingrad enough distraction to slow him. This was the first time she had made it out of Kalingrad in over ten years. The first time, she wasn't being controlled by the keeper or a patron.
Right now, she'd be dismayed if she ever let the keeper catch her. Knowing the lord would send his men after her, Isolde moved as fast as she could through the dark woods, searching for the safest place to hide. Her bare feet brushed through the underbrush, twigs pressing into the soles of her feet.
She made a sound but cupped her hands over her mouth when she heard the men racing after her.
They were following her trail. Isolde had heard the stories about the sharp senses of beings from the North from the other attendants, and to mask that, she turned and plucked the banehush leaves beside her.
Crushing the leaves together in her palms, she rubbed them on her skin. Taking refuge behind a boulder, she watched as Draken's men walked past her.
With the men gone, Isolde went north, trudging and covering her trail as much as she could. The humid air in the woods clung to her skin. She held on, seeking shelter. She was hoping to arrive in a village, but unfortunately, Isolde found herself edging toward a lake.
Her feet drew to a sharp halt as she stared long and hard at the water. She barely knew how to swim. She contemplated heading south, but the footfalls echoing behind her informed her of the men chasing after her.
"I've found her trail!" One of the men's voices roared. Upon hearing that, Isolde lunged for the lake.
Without a second thought, she dove into it and began swimming, sinking deep into the water just as the men emerged.
Their eyes scanned the area for Isolde, but they couldn't find her. Isolde, with effort, reemerged onto the surface, coughing as she waded through the water as much as she could.
"There!!! She's in the lake!" Warren called out, pointing in Isolde's direction.
They should have gone after her and swum until they caught her, but unfortunately, Isolde had swum into their enemy's territory.
The territory of Alpha Draco, the rogue lord of Abbator.
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