Man Tied To Her Bed
(500 Years Later)
Cassandra, the youngest Princess of Kingdom of Speldaria hustled through the vast corridors of her father's castle. Her flared gown hiked up held by her hands on both sides of her thighs so she wouldn't trip.
She had heard a rumour, a fleeting rumour. She needed to confirm it.
Throwing open her bedchamber's sleek door she entered her faintly illuminated room.
It creaked, the light from outside crept in and softly lighted her wooden post bed.
An astonishingly startled scream left her throat as her hands clamped her mouth shut for the sight in front of her was anything but, NORMAL.
Tied to her bed with silver chains was a marvel of a virile male specimen.
Hunkish, rugged, potent.
These were the words that flashed in Cassandra's brain as she awkwardly stared at the man whose naked torso rose and fell with every breath he took. His buffed muscles relaxed and strained, his corded biceps flexed against the chains that held him in place.
An ochre loincloth had been elegantly draped around his tapered waist and that was the only piece of cloth that covered his marvel of a body.
Bicep of his right arm had a black tattoo of a chimera, eating its own tail. The creature had wings like a dragon's, roaring head and body of a lion, the tail of a snake.
Who was he?
Why was he tied to her bed?
His eyes were closed and silken strands of lustrous brown shade curtained them.
Cassandra's heart restlessly thumped as she took a tentative step forward as if afraid to awaken the sleeping beast.
Another step and then a careful third one, now she stood directly in front of him.
Why did she feel so hot?
Taking a strong whiff she could smell him. An earthly scent mingled with sand and sage. The essence of sunbaked sand was so potent on him.
How could she smell him like that?
Why was it so enticingly palpable?
Shaking the ridiculous thoughts she finally willed her tongue to speak.
"Umm! Who are you?" She questioned, trying to put authority in her voice and failing miserably.
His lowered head slowly lifted at her question and sultry liquid gold-infused orbs quietly opened and collided with her violet ones.
A sizzling chill skittled down her spine for his sharp and demanding eyes seemed to peer deep into her soul.
His extremely tanned skin and gold-dusted eyes reminded her of the desert.
A Desert Prince would be a very profound title for this mysterious man.
Deep silence lingered as he sinfully stared at her. His wandering eyes slid to the perfect slopes of her neck and then down to her ample bosoms, which were shackled in a bone-crushing corset.
Cassandra felt exposed and she quickly covered them with her arms. Her eyes slowly scowled at his atrocious actions.
The room's door was thrown open again and like a wind from hell, Cassandra's eldest sister, Stephanie glided in.
An ever-present snicker remained permanently etched on her face.
"Well, well. Seems like my little sister got her present. Isn't he something?" She licked her scarlet-painted lower lips with her tongue.
"Is this another of your jests, Stephanie? Who is he? And why is he tied to my bed?" Cassandra demanded, turning and frowning at her eldest sister.
"To add colour to your dull life. He is a gift from the notorious shifter Alpha of Dusartine. Heard he wants a truce with our father. Hence, the gift. Since you will be taking part in the arena," she chuckled, her voice grated on Cassandra's temples. Stephanie took a step closer to the tied man.
"Arena? What?" Cassandra shrieked in disbelief. She hated the arena more than anything.
"You will learn soon. But tying him to your bed was my idea. Maybe you could finally get some with a shifter slave and give everyone some gossip. Hopefully, Commander Razial will end his engagement with you, finally seeing how pathetic you are."
Cassandra's face heated up with shame at her sister's words and she stole a look at the man who was watching Stephanie with a newfound loathing. This look was so different from what he was giving her a while ago.
"You have no shame and you thought it would be a good idea to tie him with silver chains. Knowing it's lethal for them and causes them immense pain." She pointed out.
Stephanie threw her head back and laughed at her words.
"You think I care about low-life shifters? I am not you, why don't you go and free him? It will be fun seeing you do that without magic and I have informed the servants to not help you."
Cassandra shook her head but she was not surprised. Stephanie liked torturing others, especially those weaker than her.
"Besides, your betrothed will be thrilled to hear you have a new boy toy," Stephanie cackled like a banshee yet again, her voice grating on Cassandra's nerves.
"You are despicable, Stephanie." Cassandra's loathing tone didn't sit right with her sister.
Her whole fake facade of glee disappeared. Everything about her darkened as a shadow emerged from her. An extension of her but dark and creepy with daggers for fingers.
Before Cassandra could shriek away from her she struck her across the face, the razor-sharp blades cut her cheek and the upper part of her lip open. She shielded her face with her hand.
Cassandra whimpered as blood oozed out of her open wound but louder than her whimper was a warning growl that resonated from the man's burly chest. His honey-shaded eyes turned pitch black like bottomless pits of hell.
"Awww, look at that. Two pathetic people caring for each other. He already shows concern for you." Stephanie's hollow laugh echoed in the room as the shadow receded and that bright disposition was back on full display.
Cassandra was clutching her bleeding cheek, putting pressure to lessen the bleeding. Stephanie flicked her hair back and with a perpetual sneer–exited her room.
The man in the chains watched her receding figure with disgust-filled eyes. Cassandra turned her attention to him.
How was she going to get him out of these chains, which must be burning his skin?
"How to get you out of these?"
She forgot her bleeding cheek and stepped closer to the man. His eyes wavered to her as she touched the metal cuffs on his broad wrists and tried to pull them apart.
The smell of old books and sage hit her in torrents, the potent smell of this brawny male. She stopped breathing through her nose for a second and concentrated.
She needed him free and out of her room before her fiancé would see a man in her room and find another reason to dislike her.
Her cheeks had turned baby pink and her lips were pulled tightly shut as she used all the force her delicate body possessed. But the cuffs wouldn't budge.
The cheeky male was watching her with his lips flatlining as if he was trying not to smile at her futile attempt. His brows were slightly raised seeing how she was huffing and puffing, the upper swells of her chest rising as she pulled.
"Uggh! It's no use, I will get some tools. Hold up," she finally declared, giving up.
As Cassandra stepped back and was about to turn to head out of the room she heard clanking sounds behind her.
She turned and loudly gasped as the chains holding him cluttered to the ground and the ruggedly hulking male stepped off her bed, free of any shackles holding him.
He stood so tall so broad that her room seemed to have shrunk in his colossal presence.
Her astonishment moulded into a scowl as she wondered.
'How the hell did he do that? And couldn't he have done it before? He needed a spectacle as well.'
She was about to speak when a messenger knocked on her door and announced.
"Lady Cassandra, your father requests your presence. Hurry along."
Perfect, now she had to face her ruthless father.
What did he want now?