The Lion Soul by Amy Sumida

Chapter Forty

After the God's departure, I was taken to a bedroom. My shackles were reduced to a single band around my ankle which was then attached to a very long chain that was attached to the wall. The chain was long enough that I could reach the bathroom and the bed. Rather considerate, under the circumstances.

I was a little shocked by this treatment and reconsidered my assumptions on the likelihood of my survival. You don't treat a prisoner slated for execution like this. That being said, you did treat a prisoner like this if you wanted your boss to think you'd eventually let him go. Concluding that this was all a show for Ry'zaran dashed the tiny hope that had blossomed but also put me back on steady ground. I knew what to expect of the monsters, and I preferred it that way. After gulping water from the faucet, I bathed, then went to sleep.

For the first time in weeks, I dreamt.

I was a Shirie, striding through a primeval forest. Other animals prowled the shadows but, despite my excellent vision, I couldn't see them. I smelled their musk, though. In particular, that of a lion. My nose twitched eagerly, but it wasn't Kaelen's scent. The musk was thicker and lacked the citrus aspect I loved.

A feminine voice whispered through the trees, carried on a breeze scented with cherry blossoms. “You are not alone, Shi-Rie,” she drew out the name of my beast into my name, making a connection that I had, astoundingly, never noticed before. It made perfect sense though; my name meant dragon and the Nazakian word for lion was shinu. So, the name Shirie was a combination of both—a lion-dragon. “We walk beside you,” the voice went on in a comforting tone. “Do not despair.”

I tried to ask who she was, but all that came out was a roar.

Then the shadows condensed and constricted, drawing closer as the scent of animals was replaced by that of monsters and blood. The ground froze beneath my paws and a chittering echoed around me. I crouched, preparing to fight, but was suddenly lifted from my feet. As I stepped forward, the very air condensed to support me, taking me higher and higher until I was above the treetops, with the forest stretching out beneath me toward a gleaming sea.

“Remember that you are not one thing, Rieyu,” the woman's voice returned. “As I am not. I have placed a lot on your shoulders, but only because I know you are capable of carrying it. You will not stumble, but you will fall, my Shi-Rie. When you fall, remember my words—remember all that you are and that you are not alone.”

“Shower and dress,” the snarl tore me out of my dream sky.

I jolted out of sleep and blinked up at the Farungal leaning over me. He tossed a stack of clothing in my face and, as I was pushing it aside, he removed the chain from my shackle.

“Go!” he growled and jerked me out of bed to shove me toward the bathroom.

I stumbled and with the motion, my dream came back to me. Well, there went her prediction of me never stumbling. I guess my mind was trying to give me hope that didn't exist. To hope is human, a type of survival instinct, but I had been trained to be practical because hope could also make you sloppy. It could inspire you to waste energy on efforts that were useless. I knew that the only way I was getting out of this alive was if I escaped, and that didn't look likely. They were keeping me in a nice cage, but only so they could watch me more closely. I was a treasure to them, but a temporary one. I'd go from gold to garbage the second last Farungal had been transformed.

I relieved myself, showered, and dressed in the Farungal clothes—a pair of loose pants and a robe without a belt. All of this under the watchful eyes of my guard. I hardly cared that he watched me. What did it matter? With the lack of respect I had for him, it was akin to being watched by a dog. I pulled on my boots and stepped out of the bathroom but that wasn't enough for the soldier. The Farungal shoved me out of the bedroom and into the corridor where two more monsters waited.

I expected to be taken back to the underground laboratory, but we walked past the stairs that went down to the lab, heading in the direction of the throne room. But we weren't going to the throne room either. Instead, we turned into the dining hall. Unfortunately for me, the Farungals were having their breakfast. The troughs were full of raw meat, roughly hacked into chunks, most with bones still in them. Farungals crowded around the long, wooden troughs, fighting over prime pieces, then scrambling away to eat in a predator hunch, one eye watching their kin to be sure no one tried to steal their breakfast from them. The worst part about it was that it reminded me of the Lions at the Royal Palace.

I kept my gaze on the other end of the space where some significant additions had been made since my last glimpse into the room. A long table sat there, covered in a white cloth and delicate china. Platters of cooked food sat before two place settings, one of which I was led to. I sat down in a wooden chair that, despite its carved back, looked plain compared to the throne beside it—a throne inhabited by the Farungal Queen.

“Good morning, Cousin,” Desenja said warmly as she slid a hand over my damp hair, slicked back into a braid. “You look handsome.”

I didn't even bother to grunt.

“Hungry?” She waved a hand at the food.

I slid her a wary look as I helped myself to the food. Her plate already had food upon it with several bites missing. Not that I was worried about poison, though the thought did cross my mind. If the Queen wanted to kill me, there were more satisfying ways of doing it. But I knew she wouldn't. Not while she needed me for her potions.

“Enjoy,” the Farungal Queen said and began to eat delicately. She waited a few minutes before speaking again, “I hope your room is satisfactory.”

I grunted, keeping my eyes on my food as I shoveled as much into my mouth as possible. Desenja probably wouldn't take it away since it was in her best interest to keep me healthy and producing lots of blood, but I wasn't going to put any torture past her. Plus, I was starving, and although the food wasn't nearly as good as the fare in Varalorre or even in the camps, it was far better than what her soldiers were eating.

“I'd like to make you an offer, Rieyu,” the Queen surprised me by saying.

I stopped eating, set my fork down, and gave her my full attention.

“I know you aren't sexually inclined toward women, but think of the powerful children we could have together.”

I nearly choked even though I'd already swallowed.

Queen Desenja chuckled brightly. “Didn't expect that, did you?” She stroked a hand down my arm. “There are potions that will harden you, and I promise that I won't trouble you more than necessary, just until I conceive. In return, I will give you a throne beside mine.”

“What?” I whispered.

“I want you to be my King,” she said with a greedy grin. “With you—a man who is part fae and part god—at my side, no one would ever oppose me.”

I sat back and stared at her.

“My people are a violent lot,” Desenja whispered in delight. “Even now, they plot to overthrow me. Which is fair.” She grinned brightly. “Only the strongest should rule. But before they challenge me, they will pander to me. Once my nobles receive word of my accomplishment, they will come here to offer me many things in exchange for my elixir, and among the offerings will be vows of loyalty. But that loyalty won't last long once they get what they want. They will start looking for weaknesses, and I will have to show strength. You will make me stronger, Rieyu. You will give me the edge I need to rule for eternity.”

I opened my mouth to tell her where she could stick her crown and her edge.

“Don't be hasty, Cousin,” the Queen hissed and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “We both know that I will drain you dry and rip you to pieces when I'm done with you. Or you could live in splendor forever. Think about it.” She leaned back and grinned at me. “Sex with me won't be so terrible. Not now that I'm back to my true self. And when you're not with me, you can fuck whoever you want; I won't require monogamy from you. I'm not even remotely interested in it. And I promise you, Farungal men are strikingly handsome. Just wait and see.” She licked her lips and looked over the snarling, feeding monsters as if trying to pick one. “General Shelvak,” she called.

The mob went still, and a Farungal stepped away from the rest. He came to the table and bowed, his hunched back making it look as if he were rolling into himself.

“General, your loyalty will be rewarded today. Prepare yourself to be transformed.”

The monster grinned broadly, his tail lifting to showcase its barb as the rest of the room cheered. No doubt, they believed that this was only the beginning and that each of them would soon receive the elixir. But I knew the Queen would hold out as long as possible, lording the potion over them until she had wrung everything from them that she could. I wasn't the only one she wanted to drain dry.

Even if Desenja did obey Ry'zaran, the way she worded her vow made it clear that she would transform her people before she ended the war, and it could take years before the entire Farungal race was transformed. So, the Queen wouldn't be disobeying if she continued to kill humans and faeries during that time.

As I watched her slowly smile, I knew that was her plan. Desenja wouldn't disobey Ry'zaran, but she would find a way around his orders for as long as possible. Just as she would find a way to kill me if I didn't do what she wanted.

I'd like to think I'd endure anything to stay alive but, as I watched the Farungal Queen lick her pink lips, I realized that if it came down to a choice between bedding her or dying, I'd choose death.