Chapter Twelve

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        Wearing these chains really made me realize exactly how out of shape I was for a wolf. I mean for a wolf of course for a human I was pretty good. The thing is the human population seek security, ease and comfort. Werewolves priorities are mainly based on instinct, survival and strength.

        When you are a slave while you make tend to the mill for a week till your arms are bloody and numb it never really gives you the muscle one would expect of a wolf.

        See humans never really see the difference between us however I can always tell. For starters, we're a pretty rugged bunch, secondly those who stay in wolf form for excess amount of time tend to have an almost child like yet wrinkling human form. 

        I'm sliding off point, I'm unhealthy, that much is clear. I could barely move to the bathroom with this lumbering mound of metal chained to my ankle. When I did the first thing I noticed was my reflection in the silver framed mirror, and it made me wonder why Veldore even wanted me.

        I wasn't good looking, that was obvious enough. Then again I suppose it was Luna's gift, the gift to be able to see your lover and not they're faults. To be able to love them for the better and worse in them.

        My figure was so thin and frail, my arms looked like they might snap if your twisted them too far. My face was pale with translucent skin and annoyingly feminine lips. I think if I where to name a feature of mine I did not hate, it would be my eyelashes. Maybe it is not normal for a male to find such things endearing but I liked them, they cast a pretty shadow across my face.

        I sat on the floor beside the bath and sighed, entwining the stolen keys around my index finger.

        I saw a spider scuttle down from the corner of the spider webbed walls and sighed again. I was locked up in a room with no where to go and nothing to do with a dratted lump of metal chained to my ankle and my only company a spider.

        Time seemed to still as I glared at the keeps, swallowing back my frustration as it came in shivers. They all seemed strangely small for the doors and I was pretty sure I remembered on of the other men wearing keys much larger than this on his belt.

        Was it? Could it be? The key for my chains? There where roughly eight on the ring and I gladly tried each one through the lock.

        I almost gasped in joy when the first key fitted perfectly however it would not turn and remained stiff. I was still glad to know I was right about them being the keys to my restraints.

        I was getting almost beyond irritated when I finally heard that CH'CK I'd been waiting for as I slid the key side ways on the eighth try. I moaned in euphoric relief as I slid the shackle off. Something about being in those chains made me feel so trapped, so pushed in a corner.

        I enjoyed the feeling of agility as I wandered around the bathroom a little more, proud of myself, humming a silly little tune as I admired the place.

        KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

        Nearly jumping out of my skin I ran for the shackle and smashed it against my ankle roughly, bruising my self as I did so and nervously rushed for the bathroom door, my clammy hands slipping off the handle. When I opened it and rushed forward I fell face first towards the rug. Oh, right, the chunk of metal.

        I groaned silently as I chugged it along slowly making my way to the door and pulling both the brass handles open wide.

        Of course I expected it to be a maid, or a soldier, not Veldore. Veldore was the king and as everyone knew the kings duties where never over and he was only truly expected to return to his bed chambers when sleep called for him.

CINDE, The Kings Mate (boyxboy) ✓Where stories live. Discover now