The sound of footsteps and guttural voices tore you awake. This time, it wasn’t the silence that warned you, it was the noise. The guards approached, their heavy feet pounding the stone, their weapons glinting in the dim corridor.
And there he was.
The red Yautja led them, steady, his presence commanding more than all the guards combined. He didn’t look at you as the door opened, but you knew this was his doing. It was always him. No one came unless he did.
The guards seized your arms roughly, dragging you upright. You hissed at the pain as the iron cuffs clicked around your wrists.
“Where are you taking me now?” you snapped, jerking against their hold.
No answer. Just his broad back ahead of you as they dragged you down the hall.
You spat toward him, the words tearing out before you could stop them.
“Dog. That’s all you are. The king’s dog!”
The guards stiffened, shocked by your audacity. But he only tilted his head slightly, his voice came low, unbothered.
“A dog still lives. Worms are crushed.”
Your teeth ground together, rage flooding hot in your veins. You hated how he never raised his voice. He didn’t need to. He cut deeper with calm cruelty than most could with fury.
By the time you reached the great hall, your heart was thumbing in your chest. The air reeked of blood, banners hanging from the high ceiling, the throne looming at the far end like a predator waiting in the dark.
And there he was.
The King.
Massive, scarred, his armor adorned with bones of kills long past.
But his face… It wasn’t human. It wasn’t even close. The mandibles flexed outward, clicking against one another and the ridged brow above them twitched in a way you couldn’t decipher. His eyes were deep-set, golden, piercing, like something that had hunted in darkness for centuries.
Every instinct in your body screamed at you to look away. But you didn’t. You stood frozen, heart pounding, unable to break from that gaze.
It wasn’t disgust that filled you. It was something heavier, colder. Fear. Not just of his strength, not even of his alien form. It was the realization that you were prey in this world. That the thing in front of you had killed more beings than you could imagine and that he might decide to add you to the number with a flick of his claws.
His eyes gleamed with cold amusement as he leaned back, watching you dragged before him.
The guards shoved you down onto the stone floor, but you stood back up, refusing to bow, refusing to let your knees touch the ground.
The king’s mandibles flared in offense. Silence fell over the hall.
“Kneel,” his voice thundered, a guttural growl that shook the air.
You lifted your chin higher, chest heaving, fire burning in your eyes. “No.”
The silence was suffocating. The guards shifted nervously. The king’s hand twitched toward the whip at his side.
And then, before he could move, the red Yautja stepped forward.
The sound of his boots against the stone echoed as he closed the distance. He stopped at your side, towering above you.
His mask turned down toward you. His voice was quiet, meant only for you, but filled with command that left no room for arguments.
“Kneel.”
You glared up at him, anger twisting your face. “Go to hell.”
He leaned closer, the faintest growl rumbling in his chest, words biting like ice.
“If you want to keep your skin intact, you will do as I say. Now. Kneel.”
You shook your head, heart pounding, refusing to give in. But then you saw the king rise.
His whip cracked through the air with a sound that made your blood run cold.
And suddenly, iron fingers clamped hard on your shoulder. The red Yautja’s strength was overwhelming, forcing you down, shoving you to your knees before the throne. The stone crushed into your skin, your pride screaming louder than the pain.
“Let me go!” you hissed, struggling against his hold.
But his grip only tightened. His voice came low, cold.
“Stay down. Or bleed.”
The king watched, mandibles clicking in satisfaction. Slowly, he lowered the whip, leaning back into his throne, satisfied by your submission.
The guards relaxed, though their heads turned nervously between you and the red Yautja.
Finally, his hand left your shoulder, the weight gone, but the humiliation stayed heavy in your chest.
You spat at the floor, rage boiling. “I hope he kills me. It will be better than letting you push me around.”
The red Yautja straightened, his gaze unreadable behind the mask.
He turned and walked back to his place at the king’s side, leaving you trembling, your fists clenched tight against the stone floor.
You hated him. You hated how he forced you down, how he humiliated you.
The king’s mandibles flexed with a loud click as he leaned forward on his throne, his eyes lingering on you like a predator savoring prey.
“She amuses me,” he rumbled, his voice thick with command. “This one will stay tonight.”
The hall tensed. Guards shifted, but no one dared question him. The king’s gaze locked on you, sharp and hungry, as though your defiance only made you more entertaining.
Your stomach dropped, but you forced your chin higher. “I’d rather rot in the cell.”
The hall fell silent. Several guards looked away as though your words were a death sentence.
The king’s mandibles spread in what might have been amusement or the beginning of rage. He stood up and your pulse spiked. His clawed hand rested on the hilt of the whip again and the feeling of danger pressed against you.
Before he could take a step, the red Yautja moved.
“Not this one,” his voice cut through the chamber.
The king’s head turned sharply, eyes narrowing at his right hand. The hall held its breath. No one spoke against the king. No one.
“She is untamed. Too wild,” the red Yautja continued, his tone as sharp as his blades. “She will break before she bends. Worthless for your chamber.”
The words burned you like acid. You spun toward him, fury boiling hot. “Worthless?”
His masked face didn’t turn toward you. His attention remained on the king, every word measured. “She has nothing yet to give. Better to let her rot until she learns.”
The king studied him for a long, suffocating moment. Then, with a dismissive wave, the king sank back onto his throne.
“Take her, then. Break her, if you can.”
Your blood boiled. You spun, voice sharp with venom. “I’d rather die—”
The words barely left your lips before his clawed hand seized your arm. His grip was harsh, brutally dragging you toward the hall’s doors. You stumbled, clawing against him, rage spilling out in a stream of curses.
“Let me go, you bastard!” you shouted, jerking against his hold.
His voice dropped low, for your ears alone, venomous and sharp enough to freeze you.
“Shut your mouth. Do you want his whip across your back? Or worse?”
You hesitated, caught between fury and the cold truth behind his words. But you didn’t answer, your pride wouldn’t let you.
The guards parted as he hauled you through them like nothing more than a captive animal. To them, it looked brutal, absolute. To you, it felt humiliating, suffocating, your wrists aching in his grip.
When the heavy doors slammed shut behind you and the echo of the throne room faded, he finally released you, shoving you hard against the cold wall of the corridor.
You stumbled, breath fast, your body burning. “You—” your voice trembled with rage, “—you don’t get to decide what happens to me!”
He loomed over you, mask inches from your face, his voice lower than ever.
“I just did. You think you would survive one night in there? Fool. He would split you open before dawn.”
Your breath caught, your anger crashed with the sick twist of fear in your chest. You opened your mouth but no words came.
He leaned closer, his voice dropping even lower.
“Learn this, human. You breathe because I allow it. Defy me again in front of him and I’ll let him take you. And then you’ll beg for death.”
You glared at him, every muscle trembling with rage, your throat burning with words you didn’t let out. You hated him. You hated him more than you had ever hated anyone.
And yet… a part of you couldn’t ignore the truth that lingered under his cruelty.
He had saved you. Again.
He turned sharply, striding down the corridor without another word, leaving you pressed against the wall, frustration and confusion tearing you apart.
