CHAPTER SEVEN
CAILYN
"Where are we going?" Cailyn asked, as she followed Mother Naysa down the stairs to the ground floor of the sanctuary.
"To an observation room," Mother Naysa responded, as she turned the corner.
Cailyn's mood lightened. Observation rooms were usually used when spies needed to observe a live method or technique in order to apply it to their own practice. "For training?" she asked. "I’m glad for the distraction, Mother, but I'm no longer a spy."
Mother Naysa did not reply and Cailyn did not press for an answer. The last week had been almost unbearable. The twins, Freya and Fern, had visited her every evening in order to filter magic into her for the child, and yet there was no real indication whether it was working or not. Cailyn herself could only feel the magic when it first entered her, but could not determine whether the magic was being absorbed into the child or not. The Mothers insisted that it was, but Cailyn felt uncomfortable not knowing.
Furthermore, there had been no suitable substitute for Drocco's purr. Nothing soothed Cailyn and as a result, she had not been sleeping. She could barely even relax, especially when she thought of Drocco imprisoned somewhere in the compound; she was completely on edge, constantly. As such, she couldn't even focus long enough to question the Mothers like she planned to. It dragged down her mood that she was so useless and worthless. And yet it couldn't be helped. Her mind jumped from one topic to another, she lost concentration, and her mood lowered a little as each day passed. And all the while something inside her sought and searched for that one thing she knew she couldn't get anywhere else.
She tried to get the Mothers to approve a visit from Victoya, but they had not yet done so and her isolation made everything feel worse. The only thing she could cling to was the vibration in her stomach that told her the baby was doing all right.
"In here," Mother Naysa said, stopping outside a door and gesturing for Cailyn to enter.
Cailyn slowed beside her, a frown forming on her face. "I thought we were going to the training region," she said. "We are still within the sanctuary, aren’t we?"
"Hurry, Cailyn," Mother Naysa said, almost pushing her inside the room. "This will help you, just do what is natural, all right?"
"Am I doing the training?" Cailyn asked surprised. "I thought I was just observing."
"Go in!" Mother Naysa pushed her inside and close the door.
Cailyn turned to view the room, trying to force her slow and tired mind to prepare for what may come, but her confusion increased at the sight before her. Normally observation rooms were equipped for training and they had see-through walls so that trainees could view from the outside, make notes and discuss what they were seeing. However, this room seemed to be made up to look like a bedroom.
Cailyn walked around the space, examining the room as she went. It was a simply furnished bedroom with a large bed in the center and sparse furniture. None of the walls were see-through, though they were decorated with simple patterned paintings. She was unable to detect if any magic was in use, but the room looked like any other. Mother Naysa must have gotten the room wrong. The idea that there would be observation rooms in the sanctuary seemed strange to begin with.
Just as she began to head to the door, it burst open.
Cailyn jumped a few steps back, only to see Drocco prowl into the room, enormous and wide just like she remembered him. The relief of seeing him sent her heart soaring. "Drocco!"
She began to run to him, but instantly stopped when she noticed his face. He was still furious.
Before she could even think of something to say, he launched himself at her with a growl.
She stumbled backward to remain out of his grip, but he quickly crossed the room and grabbed hold of her. His strong fist gripped her hair and yanked her head back as he pressed her against him.
"Drocco," she breathed, wincing at the sharp pain in her scalp.
He didn't respond. He lowered his face to her chest and then scented her, running his nose up her neck until he reached her face.
She tried to relax in his grip—this was what she had wanted, what she had craved—but a new fear entered her when she saw his eyes. They were dark, deeper than she had ever seen them, but they were not shiny and luminous like when he was in his rut; they were angry and dull and hard.
He grabbed the neckline of her tunic, and with a gruff grunt, ripped it away exposing her breasts. Cailyn yelled in surprise and tried to cover herself with her hands, but Drocco gripped her breast hard.
"Drocco," she said, recoiling, "what's wrong? What’s happened?"
Drocco glared at her, barely even registering that she had spoken as he twisted her nipple in his hand. And then his scent surrounded her and she truly became afraid. Aggression laced his scent so strongly, and so powerfully, it was as though she was back in Malloron's castle, watching as he fought Malloron with all his might. It was the only other time that she had experienced it this powerfully, and this time his focus was on her.
Suddenly terrified, she twisted out of his grip, wrenching herself from his fist and tearing her hair from her scalp that she did so. She ran for the door, heading around the bed, but a solid weight knocked her off her feet and onto the bed, landing on top of her and immobilizing her.
She tried again to speak to him, but he wasn't concerned with anything she was saying. He wasn't even looking at her in the eye. He began to rip off the rest of her clothes, and as much as Cailyn tried to fight him off her, he was enormous and no match her. She didn't even have magic to try and protect herself.
Within seconds she was naked and he was knocking her legs apart, his cock released from his pants, hard and thick. And finally, she realized what was about to happen, and her panic rocketed. She fought as hard as she could against him, calling to him, trying to speak to him, but he pinned her down, his fingers digging into her body until she cried out in pain.
She finally held still knowing she couldn’t escape. She tried to think of a way out, but there was none—she was too tired and exhausted to even think quickly enough. Tears filled her eyes, but she tried not to sob. Clearly, something had sparked this incredible anger that he was taking out on her; maybe he was furious at her decision to leave, but how could he be this far gone? He was practically out of his mind.
As he yanked off his own pants, holding her down on the bed, she breathed heavily trying to come to terms with it.
He pried her thighs apart, preparing to slam into her, and she told herself not to be present, just to let it happen and think of something else, anything else. And yet the realization that he was about to do something unforgivable broke her heart. He was about to hurt her in the worst way. And he had promised he would never hurt her again. He had promised it.
As he spread her legs wider, she cried out his name one more time, with all the anguish and heartache that came from the realization he had never really been the monster she had once thought him to be. Not until now.
She tensed every muscle in her body waiting for the pain, squeezing her eyes shut, sobs in her chest. But the pain didn't come.
Opening her eyes, tears escaped, and she blinked up at him looming over her. His eyes roamed her face, but he wasn't seeing her. And once again his eyes were hard and dull. Something in them bothered her… something was wrong.
Suddenly, she realized he hadn’t once spoken since entering the room. He had to be in the grip of something he couldn’t control, possibly something the Mothers had a hand in. She watched him closely, noticing his heavy breathing, his aggressive scent, and fingers digging into her. None of this was her Drocco. This was something else, and yet he had stopped at her cry.
Taking a breath, she slowly pulled her arms from his grip. He growled, his cock pressed to her entrance. But she no longer cared about that. Something had affected him, and he needed her to figure out what. He had never failed to provide her with comfort when she needed it, and now she had to do the same for him. She had to accept that he was her Alpha, and after rejecting him for so long, she owed it to him to fully commit what he needed. From this point forward, any mistakes he made were her mistakes too.
She lifted her hands to cradle his face and gently stroked her fingers on his temples.
Drawing upon the deep, passionate warmth of ownership and possession she had for him, the feelings that had always existed deep down, she reached within her for what he needed.
And she began to purr for him.