Dark Swan 1 Read online

  Are they going to take them away from me? What do they need from Mother and Father?

  “Please,” my mother begged. The broken and desperate sound of her voice was heart-shattering. “Take what you want, just please don’t hurt us.”

  Her body sagged as she whimpered and pleaded for their lives to be spared.

  My father was different. He had his shoulders held high. He wouldn’t look the raiders in the eyes, showing great defiance, even though earlier his hands had been trembling and fear shone on his face.

  He looked stoic, sitting there on his knees with his arms tied behind his back.

  If he wasn’t afraid now, why should I be?

  My thought made sense, but I didn’t have the same courage as my father. Instead, I clutched the table leg and endured the shivers that went down my spine.

  Several more men entered the house. They were dressed in all black and they all wore the same masks. They gave off a commanding vibe, like the village officers who protected us.

  Yet, they weren’t here to protect us. They were destroying everything my parents had worked hard for.

  Another man entered the room with an air of confidence. He held himself like a dictator, a king even. He wore a brown leather trench coat and though he looked too young to be the leader, he swayed with a ruler’s grace.

  He surveyed the ransacked condition of the house, bobbing his head while a large smile formed on his dry lips.

  I followed his gaze around my once-perfect home, observing how the chairs were tossed over on their sides. Glass shards littered the floor and crunched under the men’s black boots as they gathered in a line and stood at attention. Their leader chuckled.

  I had to bite my tongue to keep from screaming.

  “Good work here, team,” the man wearing the tan trench coat gloated. “Very nice, indeed.”

  My mother was breathing hard, droplets of water falling from her face. My father was glaring at the man in the coat as if he recognized him. This revelation filled me with newfound hope; maybe Father would be able to ask the man nicely to let us go.

  It took me a moment to realize what the men were holding. Guns. They were holding guns.

  They were weapons that Dad said hurt people. They were never a good sign to see.

  Two men stood in front of my parents with their semi-automatic rifle barrels pointing directly at my parents’ heads. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks as I realized what could happen.

  No. What would happen.

  I made no attempt to wipe my tears away. It would be pointless. There would be more to follow. Absorbing everything that had happened in a few short minutes left me feeling despondent.

  I made my body as small as possible, hiding myself in the shadows of the scary men. My parents had not once mentioned or acknowledged me, leaving me with the understanding that they were protecting me the best way they possibly could in this dire situation.

  My father took a deep breath as if he expected something was coming. I held my breath, suspense thrumming through my shaking body. I watched as the guards cocked their weapons and aimed them in the direction of their targets, my parents.

  My body froze and for a split second, my eyes met my father’s. No words were spoken. His lips didn’t move an inch, but his eyes, those passionate eyes that had given lots of loving attention, spoke the words he couldn’t say.

  I love you, Sophia.

  As soon as the gunfire erupted, I heard ringing in my ears. The sound was phenomenally loud, to the point I grabbed the sides of my head to cover my ears.

  A searing migraine debilitated me, while my eyes closed out of instinct. I bit my tongue to prevent myself from screaming and revealing my hidden location.

  I tasted blood in my mouth while spicy tears brimmed and spilled over my cheeks.

  I didn’t watch from there on, but even with my hands clamped against my ears, I heard the sound of my parents’ lifeless bodies as they crumpled into a heap on the floor.

  I didn’t need to open my eyes to confirm what I feared the most. I already knew, feeling it down to my very bones.

  They were gone.

  I was officially an orphan in the blink of an eye, my parents now gone from the world. How did it all go wrong? Couldn’t I rewind time and go back to the fire with my father, listening to his exuberant storytelling?

  Could I go back and warn them about what would happen?

  Opening my eyes slightly, I saw black boots moving calmly and excruciatingly slowly toward the table. My breathing was rapid and I tensed every muscle in my body.

  The fabric cover of the tablecloth lifted, and that was when I saw the wicked sneer of the tan-cloaked man with chestnut hair.

  “Well, well, well,” he proclaimed in a boisterous tone. “What do we have here, hiding under this table?”

  I swallowed hard but didn’t answer him, my body trembling uncontrollably as my wide eyes stared up at the man in sheer horror.

  He let out a condescending laugh. “It looks like I’ve won the golden prize.”

  The sound of screams filled my ears. It took me a second to realize that they were coming from my own throat.

  White hot pain hit my scalp and shot down my neck as the man yanked me by the hair and pulled me from under the table.

  I screamed and fought, kicking and flailing my legs and arms, trying my hardest to get away from the terrifying man, but his grip was too strong.

  I would do my best to defend my life, but I wouldn’t be able to fight for long against those powerful arms.

  2

  Sophia

  My eyes focused on a stain on the ceiling. I used it as a distraction. The stain was rust-colored, probably blood from one of the other slaves. Maybe from the blood of another swan shifter prisoner in years past, before I came along to fulfill Thom’s every fantasy.

  The stain was shaped like a head, almost as if the ruined soul was still somehow frozen in time, looming over the bed to haunt whomever lay here, staring up at the ceiling, shackled and bound by another. It had faded so much over time that it was an ugly tint at this point.

  I took a deep breath and tried to stretch and adjust myself, but to no avail. Thom had tied the ropes around my ankles and wrists tighter than usual, as if he were afraid I could somehow get out of them. He knew that I was stronger than most of his other captives. He had to use extra precautions to bind and keep me down.

  I took a deep breath, inhaling slowly, holding the air in my lungs before releasing it in a long exhale. Breathe in and out. At least you are alive. I reminded myself.

  It could always be worse.

  I glanced around the dungeon where Thom liked to bring his slaves for the gratification of his own sexual pleasure. The room had a four-poster queen sized bed in it, one that I was currently bound to. My arms were over my head and my legs were spread apart, strapped down at the ankles and wrists. It was a terribly uncomfortable position to be lying in and my muscles twitched every so often. My arms ached, extended above me for too long. I wished there was some way I could slacken the ropes around my petite wrists.

  Where the fuck did he go?

  More importantly, why did I even feel the need to ask myself that question in the first place? It wasn’t like I wanted him to come back and was counting down the seconds until his fateful return or something. I knew he hadn’t gone far.

  He had that gleam in his eye, that rabid, wild animal look as if he had hunted his prey for numerous hours and finally caught it. Thom was a hungry Master. He wanted to have his way with me, whenever he saw fit. Which, unfortunately for me, was all the fucking time.

  I was naked, stripped down to my very soul. At least that is what it felt like in my vulnerable state of mind, but who wouldn’t feel that way when they were tied to a bed and told not to move or else they would receive the most brutal beating of their entire life?

  I craned my head to the side and caught a glimpse of my reflection in the dingy mirror across the room. I cringed when I saw myself. I had brui
ses and scrapes all over my body. I was worn down, tired, and beaten.

  I was broken, but only on the outside. Thom hadn’t managed to hammer his way down to crack my internal being. Not yet, anyway. I was hanging on by a thread, though.

  I did my best to count the minutes, hours, and days. I needed something to pass the time. My twenty-first birthday had been last week. I had been in this godforsaken Master’s castle since the age of seven, when Thom had yanked me out from underneath my kitchen table when I was just an innocent child who hadn’t realized the suffering of the world yet.

  I had spent my twenty-first birthday rotting away in my cell down the hall and past a corridor in this very same dungeon. Nothing had changed over the course of the years. There weren’t any causes for celebration when you were a prisoner.

  I took another deep breath. Anxiety swelled in my belly and created the sensation of butterflies fluttering around in there. I hated having nervous energy, but I loathed it even more when I was expecting Thom’s abuse.

  The abuse came in different shapes, sizes, and colors of emotion. Sexual. Physical. Emotional. Thom’s sadistic mind was just twisted enough that he had the talent and knack for inflicting all three types of abuse. I was scorned in every way possible.

  I flinched when I heard the sound of him banging around in the room next door.

  “Shit!” he exclaimed. “That’s not the toy I was looking for.”

  What Thom considered a toy was undoubtedly my worst nightmare. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was scoping his supply closet for sexual instruments to torture me with.

  I nibbled on my bottom lip absentmindedly and kept myself extremely still. I did my best to go to the quiet reserves in my mind, the secret places where I harbored images to drum up even the most microscopic hint of joy whenever I found myself in a crippling state of fear.

  “Please don’t come back,” I murmured in such a whisper that it was barely audible, even to myself.

  Of course, I was a fool to ever dream that wish would come true. Thom wouldn’t be gone for long. He would come back for his prized dark swan, no matter what obstacles stood in his way.

  I closed my eyes again.

  I saw a vivid picture in my mind of my father, swinging me around and around in a circle in the rolling pastures next to our village. The snow-capped mountains were in the distance, stretching to the sky as if reaching for the heavens.

  No matter what the season was, no matter if there was vivaciously green, soft grass in the valleys to tickle my bare feet, the mountains were so high in altitude that they remained blanketed in snow all year.

  I loved this image in my head. It was powerful. Most of the time, it brought me to tears. I could smell the lilies in the pastures. I could feel the wispy strands of my mother’s hair as it brushed up against my cheek. I felt my father’s strong embrace. His grip had been filled with wonder and grace.

  But he was gone. He was only alive in my memories, nothing more. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

  My eyes bolted open once again, jostling me back to reality. I was cold, lying here stripped of clothing in a dank and musty dungeon. Goosebumps prickled on the surface of my skin.

  I was exposed. Naked. Raw.

  I hated Thom and his vile sex acts. He was a monster and I wished for a way to escape his wicked obsessions. He still wasn’t back from the supply closet. Naturally, my heart began to drum violently in my chest because I knew that probably meant I was really in for a world of pain tonight.

  I tried to stay as still and quiet as I could, preparing myself for what I knew was coming. My senses had had a mind of their own recently. I couldn’t explain it, but things had been happening in my brain. Weird things that were very real. I knew I wasn’t dreaming in the situations where these…occurrences took place.

  I was a swan shifter, it was true. But there was something probing the back of my mind, gnawing at my subconscious. My parents had both been beautiful swan shifters. I wished that they had been alive long enough to teach me how to shift into a white swan just like them.

  My mother, there was no way to describe her natural and profound beauty when she shifted into her magnificent wings. They seemed to cloak the world in a blanket of white security and purity.

  I loathed the Masters and the guards who had taken away my freedom and sold my parents short on a beautiful life spent watching me grow up. Thom and his crew ripped my family apart and I despised him for it.

  It was bad enough that I was an orphan, but I felt inferior to the other swans held in captivity with me. They were all white swans too. It was Thom’s fetish. He loved the white swans the most, and always hunted them more than the other types of shifters in the world.

  I was an outcast not only in my mind, but also to the other prisoners in Thom’s castle. Everyone chastised me, made fun of me. If something went wrong, no matter whose fault it was, no one hesitated to point fingers and place blame on me.

  Of course, I was the easiest target because I always quietly stewed in the back of my mind, but never aggressively fired back at Thom, the guards, or the other slaves.

  I didn’t want to make things worse for myself, and I knew that defending myself started from within. My parents hadn’t had violent temperaments, and I just didn’t have it in my nature to be that way either.

  But, back to the strange things that had been happening in my mind lately. It was bizarre, I knew that much. Just last week, I had been in the courtyard in the grounds of the palace. I had been cleaning the gardens with another team of slaves.

  We had been instructed to weed the area and pluck away debris. I had been concentrating, hunched over and yanking up the weeds until my hands were bloody. The guards didn’t allow us to wear gloves. It was just another way for them to get off torturing us and causing us unnecessary pain while exercising their control over us.

  “Go faster!” one of the guards had hissed into my ear.

  Immediately, I began fumbling in the rose beds, frantically pulling weeds with shaking fingers because I didn’t want to receive a beating for moving at a too slow a pace. My efforts had been in vain.

  Wouldn’t you know that the malicious guard had beaten me anyway?

  The lashing whip made contact with my skin over my shirt. The initial pain had been hot as fire. I roared with it, flinching and arching my back. This just made the guard whip me harder when he drew his weapon back the second time.

  “I’m trying my best!” I had told him, pleading for him to stop his brutal attack. I thought I might pass out from the pain. It throbbed through my entire body relentlessly.

  Finally, the guard had stopped, but I was seething as I glared at the flower beds. I had such wrath and fury swirling through my brain. I was enraged, and if I could have engulfed myself in flames, I would have. My body heat was intense. I felt my cheeks and ears grow wildly hot.

  That was when the unexplained occurrence had taken place.

  The entire row of flowers had burst into flames in that exact moment, precisely where I had been staring daggers before. Stunned, I drew back instinctively. It took me a moment to realize that I was the reason for this frenzy of fire that had unleashed chaos all around me.

  I had begun to panic. My throat felt swollen as my eyes had darted around with paranoia. No one had known it was me, apparently. The guards were working to put the flames out, stomping on them and throwing buckets of water on the worst places before it spread too far out of control. Even a week later, I was baffled at how I could have caused the fire to happen in the first place.

  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting…”

  Thom was back.

  I gasped and flinched. He had that twisted grin on his face, that flickering of animalistic passion in his eyes that made my blood run cold and sent shivers up my spine. I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to move a single fiber in my body. I couldn’t breathe.

  Thom was naked. He was more muscular than most of the Masters that I had met over the years. He prided himself on taking c
are of his body, but he was more than twice my age now, and balding. He wasn’t attractive to me in any sense of the word, but it wasn’t as if I had a choice or say in the matter.

  I was Thom’s prized possession, his beautiful dark swan, no matter how often I tried to convince myself otherwise.

  I didn’t answer him when he apologized for keeping me waiting. As far as I was concerned, I would wait forever if it meant he never laid a finger on me or touched any private place on my body ever again.

  Thom began lighting candles around the bed. The wax dripped and sagged, much like my defeated mood. He cast me a devious grin that was filled with naughty intent. I wanted no part of this, but naturally, he felt I had a role to play.

  “Are you ready?” he asked. His eyes shimmered with excitement.

  I met his gaze, but again, didn’t appease him with an answer.

  He slapped the side of my bare breast. It bounced and recovered but my skin stung on impact for several lingering seconds. I didn’t respond with any emotion.

  “Did you hear what I said, woman?” He leaned down until we were almost nose to nose and I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. “I asked you a question.”

  I paused and closed my eyes for a brief, hesitation of a second.

  “I’m ready,” I finally managed to croak. I hoped it was enough to satisfy him as a response.

  “Good.” Thom shot me a smug grin as he picked up a long and slender white candle.

  He dangled it over my belly, taunting me. The candle hovered dangerously and I braced myself for impact as Thom began to tilt the candle ever so slightly to the side. I knew that he was doing it slow on purpose so that he could get a thrill out of my terrified suspense.

  The wax began oozing off the tip of the wick. I held my breath and bit my tongue until I tasted blood. Then, when the brutally hot wax hit my skin like lava, I wailed. It was an instinctual response, but I hated to give Thom the satisfaction. Seeing my pain gave him pleasure. The more fuel I gave him, the more intense the sexual torture would be. I pressed my lips together and whimpered.