~LENORA'S POV
"Welcome to Hell, little Dove."
The voice of Zephyr slid into my ear, and I could not help but flinch as if he had actually touched me.
The word "Hell" continued to echo inside my skull and bounced against my rising panic until the concept didn't even feel real anymore.
In fact, absolutely none of this felt real to me as I stood there frozen at the edge of the room, my fingers curled so tightly into the fabric of my dress that my knuckles began to burn.
My heart ponded against my ribs, almost as if it were trying to find a way to escape my body altogether.
I quickly realized that the air in this place was completely wrong because it felt far too different against my skin.
Every breath I took felt like I was inhaling someone else's sin, and then the sounds of the room began to hit me. These were not words or music, but rather a chaotic noise where low moans tangled with rough laughter.
I heard something slap against flesh over and over again in a way that was far too intentional to be an accident, and the sound crawled over my skin until goosebumps broke out along my arms.
I swallowed hard against my dry mouth and tried to tell myself that this could not be happening.
Just minutes ago, I had been at a normal college party with sticky floors, loud music, and red plastic cups.
I clearly remembered someone spilling a drink on my shoes and the way the bass vibrated through my chest while I thought about heading home.
Now, I was standing in a room where torches lined dark walls with flames that burned an unnatural blue-white color.
The shadows they cast stretched and writhed across the marble floor, but they did not behave like normal shadows because they clung too long and moved too slowly.
There were too many bodies filling the room, with some sprawled across cushions and furs while their limbs remained tangled together.
Others knelt or lay flat near carved stone altars that were etched with symbols I did not recognize at all.
My every instinct screamed at me to turn away or close my eyes until I woke up, but fear kept me rooted in place.
My gaze landed on terrifying details like horns curving from foreheads and eyes that glowed with a faint red or gold light. Some of them looked human, which somehow made the whole situation feel much worse.
My stomach tightened and I had to press a hand to my mouth to fight the urge to gag.
Suddenly, I felt a change in the room before my gaze lifted without my permission to the far end of the chamber where a man sat on a raised dais carved from black stone.
He sat upon a throne that looked ancient, and even though he didn't move, he looked like he commanded the room with just his presence.
He wore a long black robe that hung over the edges of the stone platform like it was made of liquid ink.
The fabric was so deep and matte that it seemed to absorb the torchlight instead of reflecting any of it. Since the robe was open at the chest, I could see his pale skin which had a strange and faint glow to it.
His silver hair fell down his back in a thick layer and caught the light from the surrounding fires.
His face was honestly so attractive that it was difficult to look at him for very long. He had high cheekbones, sharp jawline, and perfect lips.
He had a white blindfold tied securely over his eyes which stood out against his skin. And even though a blindfold usually makes someone look vulnerable, it actually made him seem more intimidating.
From his temples rose smooth dark horns, curving back elegantly from his skull in a way that looked polished and regal. They marked him unmistakably as something inhuman, something ancient and powerful.
I felt like I could barely breathe because even with the blindfold, I could tell he was aware of exactly where I was standing.
It felt like a heavy pressure against my skin and my heart was hammering so hard that I was worried everyone in the room could hear it.
Who is he?
The question echoed uselessly in my head.
I didn't need an answer to know he was dangerous.
Around him, figured knelt and rose, worshipping him orally, bobbing their heads in fervent rhythm.
When he exhaled, the sound was low, and yet, It vibrated through the chamber, through me, settling deep in my chest.
Weird looking women were scattered throughout the chamber, chained to walls or the floor while muscular, horned beings took them with savage force.
The sounds were horrifying. And yet... I felt a heat rise in my body that I didn't understand.
"No," I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. "No, no, no..."
This wasn't arousal.
It was fear.
It had to be.
My body was betraying me, responding to the wrong stimuli, firing nerves in places I didn't want to acknowledge. My cheeks burned, my skin hypersensitive, every brush of air against me amplified until I felt exposed despite my clothes.
I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head.
Wake up.
This was a dream. A stress dream. I'd probably had too much to drink and passed out somewhere after hitting my head. Any second now I'd jolt awake in my dorm room with a racing heart, and sheets twisted around my legs.
But when I opened my eyes again, nothing changed.
The room was still filled with movement and sound, the heat was still present. The silver-haired man still sat enthroned, blindfolded and impossibly calm.
"Enjoying the view?"
Zephyr's voice brushed my ear again, closer this time.
I gasped and stumbled back, nearly tripping over my own feet. My heart leapt into my throat as I spun toward him.
I couldn't form words, couldn't think straight. The afterimages of the orgy scene still danced before my eyes, mingling with the scent of smoke and something else.
"I'd take that as a yes because I can smell your arousal, Dove," Zephyr's voice dropped to a husky whisper, "and it smells so good."
He stood far too close with an amused smile, his eyes faintly glowing crimson in the shadows. He looked human enough, too handsome, too polished, but something in his posture screamed predator.
"I—" My voice cracked. I tried again. "I don't... I don't belong here."
He chuckled softly. "Oh, Dove," he murmured, "you very much do."
I scoffed underneath my breath. This was definitely a dream. It can't be real, with me being surrounded by creatures that looked like twisted parodies of humans, indulging in acts that made me involuntarily feel things I wasn't supposed to.
I squeezed my eyes shut, pleading with myself, 'Come on, Lenora, wake up.' But the scene didn't fade.
I shook my head violently. "This is a dream," I insisted, more to myself than to him. "It has to be. I was just at a party. I was—" My breath hitched. "I was there."
Zephyr tilted his head, studying me curiously. "Dreams do not smell like this," he said lightly.
My breath hitched, because to my horror, I realized he was right.
I could smell everything, I could feel the heat, hear the sounds, sense the weight of the room pressing down on me.
Lucian appeared at Zephyr's side without warning, his presence quieter but no less unsettling. His blue eyes flicked over me, something like concern tightening his expression.
"She's overwhelmed," he said flatly.
"Obviously," Zephyr replied. "That's half the fun."
I backed away instinctively, my shoulders hitting the cold stone of the column behind me.
"S-stay back!" I stammered, my body shook while my fingers brushed against the insides of my bag for the pepper-spray I had kept, though I knew it wouldn't help... much.
Lucian stopped where he was, palms open in a placating gesture. "Easy," he said. "We're not going to hurt you."
I laughed, a broken hysterical sound. I stumbled back, wanting to disappear into the walls. "M-monsters." I breathed.
Zephyr's smile faltered, something darker flashing across his face. "Monsters?" he echoed softly. "Is that what you see?"
Before I could answer, the silver-haired man was suddenly standing in front of me.
One moment he was seated on the dais; the next, he loomed over me, his presence crashing into me like a wave. I froze, my body locking up completely.
He was taller and broader up close. His blindfolded gaze faced me, yet I felt exposed, as though he saw everything.
My gaze drifted down, and saw his robe fell open at the chest, revealing more pale skin etched faintly with glowing markings that pulsed slowly like a heartbeat.
He inhaled slowly, the sound was soft, but it sent a shiver through me.
His tilted his head, just slightly, as if listening to something only he could hear. Then he lifted his hand, his pale fingers extending toward my face brushing it with a ghostly touch.
I flinched so hard that a small sound of terror escaped my throat, which caused him to stop immediately.
For a long moment, neither of us moved until I noticed the air around him started to ripple strangely.
His entire body began to blur as his edges dissolved into a silver-grey smoke that twisted around itself. I stumbled back in shock when he vanished completely and left nothing behind but the feeling that he was still there.
My eyes widened in terror, "W-what...." I stuttered.
Before I could ask more, a firm hand settled on my shoulder and exhaustion slammed into me as my knees buckled, with my strength draining from my limbs all at once.
I started to fall, but a pair of strong arms caught me and pulled me against a solid chest.
My vision began to blur and darkness started creeping in from the edges of my sight. I heard a voice brush against my ear that sounded both low and very intimate.
"I can't wait to mark you, Dove."
My last coherent thought was a name.
Zephyr.
Then everything went black.