Project Servile : Defect [Book #1] ✔ Complete!

➽ N i n e t e e n : The Unclanned

"I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion."
-Jack Kerouac

All of the anger and disgust that I was harboring faded. Only stunned silence replaced it. I had no response to what he claimed. Could it be possible that what he said was true?  The man waited for me to say something but when it was clear I wouldn't, he continued. 

"I never imagined that I would meet you, less so like this." He moved closer and without hesitation he ran his hand down my cheek. I wanted to flinch away, move from his gaze and touch but the magic still held me in place. 

"Release her! I want to have a word with her, in private." The moment he spoke, I felt the invasive sorcery leave my body. Everything tingled, giving me no feeling other than pins and needles. The man touched me again with his rough, calloused fingers, this time grabbing me by the arm and hoisting me to stand in front of him. 

"Come," he demanded, as the cheering slowly started echoing through the group again. Panic welled in my chest. I couldn't leave Jaxon alone with these people. 

"He comes with us! I won't follow you unless he is with us too." My voice broke in many places, announcing my fear to the world. I doubted I actually had a choice but I needed to try. 

The man thought for a moment. "He stays bound. I want to have this conversation with you, alone." 

That would be the best I could get and it made me less leery to know that I could at least keep my eye on the Prince. I nodded at the stranger. He hoisted Jaxon against his body and carried him with ease. 

We made our way across the small clearing to a tent that was hidden in the shadows, where the light of the fire couldn't reach. Entering it did nothing to combat the chill of winter. A lantern was lit, showing the rough patches and holes surrounding the thin cloth. Other than the source of light, there was a thin cot in one corner and a table that held the lantern with two chairs underneath it in the other. 

The man threw Jaxon onto the cot, not being easy about it. I glared at him but he had his back turned toward me, walking to one of the rickety looking chairs. I questioned whether they would actually hold the weight of a well fed squirrel, let alone that of a full grown man. He sat and the chair let out a groan from the heft but it held steady. 

He gestured for me to sit. "I'm sorry this isn't more cozy but this is all I have to offer." 

"I won't call you father." I noted harshly, still not believing a word he said. He was obviously the leader of whatever this feral group was. I made my way to the chair and sat lightly, still not trusting it wouldn't snap under me. 

"I wouldn't expect you to. My name is Warren." With the illuminated aura casting around the entire tent, I could finally get a good look at his face. It was definitely inhuman, the pores too smooth and his eyes too knowing to be an average human. Beneath that though, something about his face was familiar. The shape of his nose, the point of his chin. Features that look back at me in the mirror.