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Domeykite considered himself to be a merciful master. For the first few days he had taken it easy on Orhni. She was allowed to den with the other thralls as they instructed her on various duties she was to uphold. He hoped they taught her well, or at least warned her of what it was like to serve one master. Today training was over, and he had no patience for letting her off easy. What was the point in having a toy, after all, if he was not going to play with it?

The lion had slept in until later in the morning, but he suspected he would find Orhni in the main dens with the other thralls. Little did she know it was the last night she would spend with the regular thrall rabble. Domeykite had his prize, and he demanded that she would be all for himself. If she stayed with the rest of the thralls, someone else could decide to play with her too before he knew it, and he wasn't sharing just yet. He had shown her off a few times, sure, but he'd only let the others toy her around after he was done with her.

He asked one of the thralls if Orhni was there, and getting confirmation that she was he walked into one of the dens. Bright green eyes focused on her with dark delight, and when he spoke his voice was demanding. "Get up, you're moving into my den before someone else tries to lay a paw on you." There was no room for 'no', though if she tried... well, that would be fun too.

Life in the Stormborn could have been worse. It was not great and she missed her freedoms and the feel of the warm, savannah sun, but it was not absolutely and completely the worst fate that she could have imagined. It still left somewhat to be desired and if she was having trouble smiling through the endless chores and jeers that surrounded her then so be it. No one had said (yet) that she had to act happy about her lot in life.

She was just sitting herself down after a long, grueling day of hunting when she heard her Master's voice in the mouth of the den. If there was one thing about being here that she did not like, it was absolutely and completely that tricky a*****e, Domeykite. There was no end to his teasing or his commands, no stop to his attempts to goad her into lashing out so that he could punish her. It was a revolting game of cat and mouse and for just a split moment, she had absolutely considered hiding. Where, she wasn't sure, especially since all the other yellow-bellied Thralls would just rat her out. Then things would be much, much worse.

"Whatever you say," she chimed in a tone that was almost respectful if not for the sneer she couldn't quite wipe off of her face, pushing herself back up onto her weary paws even as every aching bone in her body protested against it. Even if his den was the last place she wanted to be, she supposed there was no point in arguing. He had made that clear again and again and again..

He was surprised by her agreeable nature, and had to wonder if something had happened to her since the last time he had left her. His eyes narrowed at her, distrusting the thought that no one would touch her now that he had claimed her. She looked tired, worn out from whatever menial chore she had been made to do. Stepping closer, he noted she did not smell of any lion in particular. A lot of smells clung to her from the day, but not any that screamed out at him that something had happened to his prize.

So, perhaps she was coming around to him. What a shame, he had just started to really enjoy pushing her around. This only meant that Domeykite would have to invent a new way to break her resolve.

"Good girl," he purred and turned away from her, leading her out of the thralls' dens. Coming home with him would almost guarantee her safety from the other lions in the pride, but that left her completely vulnerable to Domeykite's intents which were far more unpredictable. The real danger lied in the fact that Domeykite simply did not know what he wanted, and so he tended to demand everything. He would use all of what his thrall had to offer until she had nothing left to give him.

"You look spectacularly worn out today," he commented as they walked. "I suppose the thralls have been keeping you busy, princess?" The conversation was nothing more than an attempt at normalcy, something that would surely break away once they were in private. "You won't go back there." If she had made any friends, tough. Domeykite intended to keep her as busy as possible while he was around. There was little he could do when he went reaving. He very well couldn't take her with him. His princess would take the first chance she got to run off on him.

Orhni trailed behind him, staring daggers at the back of his skull and wishing with all her might that she had been given strength and brawn instead of beauty and grace. Not only would it have given her more reserves to complete all these damnable chores but, too, it would have given her the power to dominate his infuriating a** in the first place. She had heard whispers of challenges and Thralls being given their rights in the pride but she had little hope for herself as the petite, beautiful daughter of a gypsy pride's Song Keeper.

"You don't have to say it so snidely," she remarked, doing her best to restrain the heat in her voice but finding it difficult when he so openly mocked her station in life. She knew it was what he wanted just like she knew that his sense of happy banter right now as all a sham. He was wicked and unpredictable with a penchant for lying and thieving. She supposed many of them in the pride were like that but she would be damned if anyone told her he wasn't the most amoral, sniveling wretch of the bunch.

His next words, however, ruined any hope she had of staying calm.

"So what now? I'm just going to sit in your den with you while it pleases you to order me about and then waste away in isolation when you're off ruining more lives?" There was heat in her voice and she had stopped to spew the angry words, too, standing just beyond sight of the Thrall's dens - probably a terrible oversight on her part.

He was mistaken. Orhni had not turned into some demure flower while he had left her to the tutelage of the thralls. The spite and fire in her that was so utterly appealing to him burned brightly. They were not completely out of sight yet, but Orhni was his', and none would fault him for doing whatever he felt like doing to her. There was comfort in the thought that in this pride, there was alway someone who was much worse. Domeykite was not the most wicked of the bunch, but he was certainly a competitor in that regard.

The forest green lion turned around to face his prize, his gaze briefly scanning the area for those who were around. In the end, it didn't matter, because he really didn't care. He approached Orhni, and with the gentlest of actions lifted his paw to caress her cheek. Such passion was intoxicating, and he was reminded of why he had thought it would be so much fun to keep her in the first place. "Exactly," he purred, pleased that she was at least not that stupid.

"You'll warm my bed, do whatever I order you to do, and when I'm gone you'll stay hidden, a prize only for my eyes." His claws unsheathed where his paw rested against her cheek, sharp prinpricks of nails against her skin. She could move if she pleased, but he was not above scarring that beautiful face. Even something he destroyed could be beautiful, all because it was he who crafted it. "If you have complaints, I suppose you should vent them now so I can put an end to them once and for all," he challenged her, his voice a deep rumble in his chest. Bright green eyes lit with excitement.

The games were just beginning, and he was going to have himself one hell of a time.

Orhni had never thought herself a brave lioness, that much was absolutely true. There had been no room for bravado in her pride but, too, her mother had always kept the ruffians in check when it had been necessary. As a rogue she had learned to be wary but it wasn't until she had been captured by this absolute wretch of a lion that she had found her spine and pride. Staring up at his bright, acid eyes made all of it churn into a fire until she was absolutely certain she would spit lava if she opened her lips.

"You might give me orders but I will be damned before I warm a damn thing on your body," her words were a hiss as she leaned toward him, feeling the pricks of his sharp paws as they pierced the surface of her flesh beneath the mask that was printed across her brows and cheekbones. She leaned into the pressure even still, unperturbed by his threats. "I would rather freeze in your damned maelstroms."

It would have been so much easier if she had been able to make herself one of those demure, downcast Thralls that she had been given the misfortune of spending her time with. They aggravated her to no end, so helpless and resigned to their fate as work mules and toys. She would not have been her father's daughter if she had thought her gentle, beautiful nature made her weak - she would die to retain her dignity. She knew that.

His eyes were bright, intense as he watched the effects of her boldness. She leaned into the embrace of his claws, and with satisfaction he watched as small beads of red were pushed to the surface. If he had known his words alone would anger his this much, he would have spoken them sooner and more often. There was an odd feeling of satisfaction to see her so defiant, knowing that all it took would be one swift throttling to put her back down where she belonged.

Domeykite was not a nice lion. There were other Stormborn who were far more kind to their thralls, and far more forgiving of their insolence. Domeykite allowed Orhni to act up because he knew how much fun it would be to knock her down a few pegs. Let her speak out, let her act up, it would make training her all the more enjoyable. He hadn't hurt her yet. In fact, he had planned to make it back to his den with her before he considered any real training.

But a situation like this called for a little action, and he badly wanted to see if she'd break.

"You've got it all wrong if you think I am giving you a choice, princess."

She could see it coming, the calculations ticking in his brain. How far did he have to go to make her submit? He was very interested in finding out. In the end, he supposed that scarring her up a little bit would not ruin her attractiveness. Rather, it would act as a mark for all to see that she belonged to him. He lifted his right paw, claws unsheathed, and in one forceful swoop slammed it towards the side of her face.

There was time to dodge it, but if she didn't it was guaranteed to hurt. He wasn't holding back with her now.

Orhni, bless her little heart, had never been the bravest of lions and it seemed in the moment that she had decided to stand up for herself it was the greatest mistake she could have made. The raise of his paw was unmistakable but their proximity made it difficult to get away entirely from the blow he swung cleanly at her face. In the end she only had time to turn her cheek, letting his claws rake down her temple and onto her neck, leaving fresh marks in her pale fur that immediately began to bubble with stark red blood.

Uncertain if he would follow it with another attack, she cowered back and sank to her haunches, ducking her head and trying her best to hide the softest and most vulnerable parts of herself without completely turning to run.

If she stayed it would be bad but if she ran it would be worse.

If she talked back, it would be worse.

If she didn't stand up for herself, it would be worse.

With the stinging reminder of his claws still biting at her skin, she dropped her gaze and winced around the swelling pain. It would bruise and swell even if the blood stopped soon. His point was made, all too clearly, and not for the first time she found herself homesick and wishing that her mother was there to save her from her mistakes.

She wasn't, though, and Domeykite was the only thing that mattered now. Domeykite and surviving him.

It was immensely satisfying to feel her skin tear under the pressure of his claws. He didn't have to admit it for it to be evident that he enjoyed this cruelty. Orhni's saving grace was that she did not rise up to challenge him again. Domeykite's actions were extreme, but they were not without provocation. The only difference between Domeykite and most of the other Stormborn pride lions was that he went straight for the most drastic measures. Why wouldn't he when it earned him results such as this?

Living with Domeykite would be a trial in itself, especially with the green lion himself hoped that she would slip up. All he needed was an excuse to harm her, and he would. Now, she gave him none, so he relented. Bright green eyes looked down onto her with smug pleasure. He had won.

"All right, get up, let's get you home." His words were sharp with impatience, but he genuinely had no intention of further harming her today. The lesson he had given her was a good one. It was the first time he had shown just how far he would go and how easily it would be to let him get there. Maybe his princess would wisen up, but he held onto that glimmer of hope that she wouldn't.

He turned away from Orhni, making his way into the den a few homes ahead of them. He expected her to follow - she now knew what would happen if she didn't.

Orhni let the green lion take his rightful place a few steps ahead of him before she stepped forward too, following in his wake as she watched his paws grace the earth with ease and familiarity. She did not want to go, she did not want to live in his den, she did not want any of this - but who would stop him?

Who would save her?

The muses had abandoned her homelands and they had left her without a protector alone in the rogue lands looking for somewhere she belonged. Now it seemed that she did not belong anywhere - she belonged only to this b*****d of a lion that she would never escape from.

With her face still stinging from the blow of his paw, she slipped into the shadowed interior of his den without a sound.