Prologue
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Female laughter drifted through the small, with heavy wooden beams barricaded window that was my only connection to the outside world.
“I can’t wait to wear the dress my mother tailored for my fetching”, a young woman merrily chanted. “Sometimes, I would sneak into my parent’s room only to catch a glimpse at it.”
“Me too”, another female giggled.
“I heard the king himself and an Alpha will attend this year”, a third bell-like voice whispered in awe. “Who knows, maybe you will become Luna or even Luna Queen!”
One of the women made a derogative noise.
“Mated to the cold-blooded king or the mad Alpha of the Rogue pack? No, thanks!”, she snorted. “I’d rather take a chivalrous warrior.”
More giggles, followed by a sigh.
“A warrior as a mate … Can you imagine?”
“No need! I wouldn’t exchange my Sergey for all warriors in the world!”, the bell-like voice firmly declared.
“Be honest, aren’t you even a little disappointed that your mate turned out to be a mere innkeeper?”
“A very successful innkeeper”, the addressed confidently pointed out. “And believe me, once you are fetched by your true mate, all that pondering and wishful thinking will lapse immediately. You will look into his eyes as your minds merge and your souls connect and your heart will be filled with a joy and warmth you never felt before. You will …”
As the friends walked on, the words became fainter and fainter until they were but a sweet memory.
The fetching. So, it was this time of year again. My favorite besides Beltane.
Something stirred inside of me. It was much too vague, much too frail, much too pathetic to be called happiness, to be called an emotion at all. Yet, it lit a tiny spark of life in me, something I hadn’t experienced for what seemed like an eternity. For a couple of weeks, the street the window faced would be louder as usual, the passersby more excited and their stories more colorful and diverse and vibrant – so much so that occasionally, I would almost feel as if I was down there with them, as if I was a passerby as well, someone with many delightful stories of my own. Foolish dreams bound to result in agonizing awakenings.
Eventually, the cruel reality would catch up with me and I would become aware of my dreadful existence once again. Of the impenetrable darkness. Of the coldness. Of the thirst and hunger. Of the putrid smell. Of the unbearable itching. Of the loneliness. Of the bottomless despair. One day, that horrifying realization would shatter my last remnants of sanity, would truly turn me into the monster my parents had made me out to be.
An insect crawled over my hand and I instinctively clasped my bony fingers around it and put it in my mouth. Better than the rotten bread and vegetables my captors supplied me with. Soon, it would be winter and the bugs gone. Luckily, the rats wouldn’t.
