Love Comes In Many Dangerous Forms

I smiled slightly as I saw a flicker of fire come out from the top of the light and carefully set it into a pile of small sticks. I set the lighter down and placed my hands near the small blaze, letting its warmth caress my cold hands.

I felt something wrap around my shoulders. I looked up to see Shane looking down at me as he placed a blanket around my shoulders. I smiled at him.

“Thank you,” I breathed, taking my hands away from the fire to wrap the blanket tighter around me.

“Can I ask you something?” he sat down beside me.

“Anything,” I answered smiling.

“What was your family like, before you became royalty?” he frowned, “You don’t have to answer.”

“It’s okay,” I touched his shoulder, “They weren’t always so… mean.

“In the beginning, my mother and father loved us all equally. They were good slaves, always got their work done, and if they weren’t working they were struggling to keep us healthy, safe.

“I use to look up to Hillary. She would tell me stories of how life would be if the werewolves saved us, how we would find Prince Charming, what we would wear to balls, and how it would feel to be free. She protected me, when no one else was around or the other slaves would do nothing but watch. She was my best friend.”

“What happened?” Shane asked.

“Things started getting bad,” I told him sourly, “They started gloating, even though they would be punished if the king found out his slaves were socializing. They would tell the others that they would save them, make everything better, the immortals would be slaves to us.

“And when I saved Zach, they scolded me, saying a princess should not save an unworthy one, a demon. They told me it was wrong to save an immortal, and that I was unfit for the title.

“When I told them what happened to me. They brushed it off, as if I fallen and scraped my knee. They didn’t care, they were actually happy that Michael was dead, they laughed. The only concern they had was if I would become pregnant from the rape.

“It was a week after I had saved Zach, I was taken and put in the dungeon,” I sighed shaking my head, trying to forget the memories.

“It was two years after the day I was put in my cell. And it was five days until judgment day. I was so close to death, I could taste it. That was the one thing I wanted, the one thing I needed was death. It was something I had looked forward to. Death was my escape from the torture, from the pain. I would dream of it – how I would die and what it would be like to be dead, to be with Michael again. I would wonder about Heaven and Hell, and which one I would end up in. And then…” I trailed off.

“And then?” Shane motioned for me to continue.

“The wolves came,” I answered fiddling with my fingers, “I thought I had finally gotten my wish for death. But when I heard them near me, I couldn’t see them – I was almost blind from being in the dark for so long – I realized that I was safe. And then the pain came.

“They were taking me out of my cell, and even the slightest movement would bring pain. Most of my bones were broken, fractured, or recovering from a break.”

“I remember that,” Zach sighed his eyes were shut, “You were screaming so loud. The dogs didn’t make it any easier for her, like they were trying to cause her more pain.”

“I can hear you, you know!” Colton shouted from inside the carriage.

“Good,” Zach muttered.

I elbowed Zach in the side, probably earning myself a bruise, “I remember being scared, not seeing anything, not knowing where they were taking me. And we came outside. It was so bright, it hurt my eyes, but I didn’t mind that.

“I heard them then, I finally heard the voices of my family. But did not comfort me, they did not say they missed me or that they loved me. No, they said none of that. They just told the werewolves to take me over to Vera. They weren’t my family anymore,” I finished.

Shane was quiet for a few moments.

“How…” he started, but stopped himself.

“You can ask me,” I told him.

“How did you not…” he trailed off again.

“Die?” I guessed.

Shane nodded.

I smiled wryly, “They were very careful, when they were torturing me. They knew where me arties were, and they knew if the punctured one, I would bleed to death. And if I was too close to death hey would pour venom on my wounds. And when they broke my back, they made sure that my spinal cord was uninjured, they wanted me to feel everything.”

“The broke your back?” he asked angrily.

I nodded, “I’m still recovering from it, I had to wear a brace for months, and I always had to have someone with me if I wanted to go somewhere other than my room.”

“You should probably go to bed Cassie,” Zach told me and helped me up.

“Goodnight, Shane,” I told him.

“Goodnight, Cassiel,” he breathed, not tearing his eyes away from the fire’s flames.