The feeling of delicate fingers threading through his hair strands and the soft rales of breathing are the first things Alastor notices when the clouds of sleep sweep away from his consciousness.
The sight that welcomes him when he flutters his heavy lids open makes his breath stuck in his throat; It's the Fae princess again, sitting by his side, grazing his hair strands with those gentle hands. She truly is such a beauty to withhold, he has to admit. But only if it wasn't just a mask to conceal what hides beneath.
He sucks in a lungful of air, being aware that his surroundings are not the one that he was before. White curtains, golden carpets, feathered pillows, and fluffy blankets were never for him. He barely remembers a life like this. Arcelia has never been the same after the war.
The memories of that certain cold, dreadful cell he was thrown into before burning his memories. If he focuses enough, he can relive the moment of being whipped to death and feel those electric shocks sweep through his bloodstream.
As if his movements have startled the girl before him, she snaps her head toward his direction, their gazes crashing together.
Her pale blue irises dilate, those infuriating pink, plump lips parting for a sharp intake of breath, "You are awake…" She is saying, yanking her fingers away from his hair strands and hiding them under her chin. "I— let me call the healer."
Being drugged is the last thing Alastor wishes for right now.
"I don't want anyone here." he cannot recognize his own voice, it is so scratchy as if it's been a million years since he gobbled some water down his throat. In some ways, it's true. Ever since he was locked in that dungeon, no one offered him anything other than whips and drugs. Nothing to eat. Nothing to drink. Nothing that is essential for him to keep the fire inside of him.
The princess is quick to lift onto her feet, a bright shade of crimson coloring her pale cheeks as she takes a few steps away from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable." She says, "I was concerned." The fear that he has glimpsed in her orbs before is now replaced with something delicate.
A laugh rumbles out of him at the girl's phrases, "Concerned? Concerned about the person whom you all have just tortured to death? Never heard anything like that before."
The princess's eyes widen, her long lashes slithering into her eyebrows. The look of innocence pisses Alastor off more than anything else. They locked him up in a dungeon, refused to feed him, tortured him to no end, and had the audacity to act like some saint. He would have burned them down to ashes if it wasn't for that drug and electric bonds.
But then again, he has a purpose. The knights of Wisteria do not find him by accident or to his unfortunate. He wasn't taking a nap on top of that mountain like they assumed. He was waiting. Waiting for them to find him, to take him to this palace. To make his plan a little easier for him to succeed.
He will set fire to this kingdom.
"I'm truly sorry." The velvety voice of the princess pulls him back from his headspace. "I did not know why they did that to you. I apologize on their behalf."
"I thought they were trying to teach you how to tame me." Alastor sneers, if his glare could kill, this little princess would have died by now.
"I'm sorry." She repeats her apology, looking ashamed of their actions. But that cannot fool him into believing her innocence. He has seen a lot of Faes in his life and none of them was kind… in fact, they were far from kind. They were crueler than the demons. Always hiding their ugly disposition behind the beauty of theirs. They can fool anyone but him. Not after what they did to his homeland.
He knows the lives they ruined and the land they destroyed. And he has sworn to his life that he would make them pay for it all.
"Oh, Is the princess of the great Wisteria apologizing to her pet?" Venom drips down from each of his words and he watches how it poisons her with satisfaction. "Get out before I burn you down to ashes."
The girl flinches at his harsh phrases, eyes as big as saucers and mouth parted. Her fingers clutches on the silky white robe which flows down her curves with blood etched on them. The blood which must belong to him.
The ghost of those arms wrapped around him when he was fighting to keep his consciousness flashes in his memories. He does not know why she did or why didn't join the laughter that rang in the cell. Maybe it was all another act… an act to tame him.
"I was just being nice to you… why are you threatening me?" She mumbles, a furrow settling deep into her soft brows. "I don't think of you low just because you are my pet." she shakes her head, staring right into his eyes, "It feels weird… calling you my pet."
A laugh seeks through Alastor's lips, "I have had enough of you being nice to me, Your Highness." He mocks out the last few words of respect, "And if you feel that weird to call me your pet, then you wouldn't be keeping me here."
The princess opens and closes her mouth like a fish out of water, unease painting her face with darkness.
She stares at him.
He stares right back at her.
He does not know for how long they are staring into each other's orbs, he lost track of time. He feels hypnotized.
"I'm sorry. I have no choice but to keep you." That's the last thing he heard before she scrambled out of the door. Leaving him there with his rippling thoughts.