17. Cassia

17

CASSIA

" A h!"

I jolt awake, gasping for breath as a shock of freezing water douses me. My heart races as I struggle to make sense of my surroundings. The cage bars dig into my skin as I thrash against them, but it's no use. The servants have me out before I can even fully comprehend what's happening.

"Stop fighting, you little wretch!" one of them snarls, yanking me to my feet.

I'm still dazed and disoriented, but I can't let them do this to me. I kick and scream, trying to break free from their iron grip. But they're too strong, and there are too many of them.

They drag me to a nearby table and force me onto my back. I feel helpless and exposed as they begin to clean me, roughly scrubbing my skin with coarse cloth. The water is ice cold, and I can't stop shivering.

"Hold still!" one of them barks, as I try to squirm away from their touch.

I can't believe this is happening. I've always known my place in this world, but I never thought it would come to this. My dreams have opened my eyes. Gorthak has shown me… that I don't deserve this.

As they finish cleaning me, they start to dress me in a white, scanty outfit. It's barely enough to cover me, and I feel more exposed than ever. I try to protest, but my voice is hoarse from screaming, and they ignore me anyway.

"Come on, let's go," one of them says, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet.

I stumble after them, my legs weak and unsteady. They drag me through the halls of the manor, past the other servants who stare at me with a mix of pity and disgust. I can't meet their eyes. I'm too ashamed.

Finally, we arrive at the living room of the Master's manor. It's a grand, opulent space, with high ceilings and ornate furnishings. But all I can focus on is the group of dark elves gathered around a table, laughing and drinking.

They turn to look at me as I'm dragged in, and I can feel their eyes raking over my body. I want to disappear, to fade into the shadows and never be seen again. But I know that's not an option.

"Ah, here she is," one of them says, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "The little human pet."

I feel a surge of anger and defiance, but I force it down. I can't let them see how much they're affecting me. I have to stay strong, no matter what they do to me.

But as they begin to approach me, I can't help but feel a sense of dread creeping over me. I don't know what's going to happen next, but I know it's not going to be good.

I try to pull away, but their grip on me is too strong. "Get your hands off me!" I spit, trying to sound braver than I feel.

One of the dark elves chuckles, his eyes gleaming with malice. "So much spirit."

Another one steps forward, his hand reaching out to touch my face. I flinch, trying to dodge his touch, but he's too quick. He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. "You're going to be a lot of fun," he sneers.

I feel a surge of anger rising up inside me. I won't let them do this to me. I won't be their plaything. I ball my hands into fists and lash out, hitting one of the dark elves in the chest.

He stumbles back, surprised, and for a moment, I think I might have a chance. But then the others are on me, their hands grabbing at my arms, my legs, my hair. I scream, trying to fight them off, but it's no use.

"Let me go!" I cry out, my voice hoarse from screaming. "Please, let me go!"

But they just laugh, their maniacal cackles echoing through the room. They're enjoying this, enjoying the fact that they have me at their mercy.

Their touch is revolting, like a slimy creature slithering up my leg. I try to shove their hand away, but it's a futile attempt. They're far too strong, too powerful for a human like me.

Despair washes over me, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the sounds of their cackling laughter and the repulsive feeling of their hands roaming my body. I cling to the memory of Gorthak, the way he looked at me with fierce protectiveness in my dreams. He wouldn't let this happen. He'd save me.

"We've decided to… sample the goods," one of the elves says, leering at me with a twisted grin.

"Indeed," another chimes in. "It's crucial to ensure the quality of the merchandise for such a distinguished client. You understand."

Anger surges through me, and I recoil, spitting in the nearest elf's face. His response is swift and brutal, a stinging slap that sends me sprawling to the ground. A cry of pain escapes my lips, and I can't hold back the tears that spill over.

The dark elves pounce on me, tearing at my clothes and forcibly spreading my legs. I fight back with every ounce of strength I have, but it's no use. Their strength overpowers me, leaving me helpless and vulnerable.

The door to the room is torn off its hinges, and a horde of orcs pour in. They're covered in blood and gore, with deep scars etched into their green skin. Their weapons are stained red, and their eyes are filled with a wild, feral rage.

I scramble back, trying to put some distance between myself and the elves while they're distracted. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

One of the orcs, a massive brute with long, black dreads and a scar running down the left side of his face, steps forward. He's carrying a large battle-axe, and he looks like he knows how to use it.

Gorthak?