Slave of Froize: A Froize Trilogy Novel

Home > Other > Slave of Froize: A Froize Trilogy Novel > Page 1
Slave of Froize: A Froize Trilogy Novel Page 1

by Emera Rose




  Slave Of Froize

  A Froize Trilogy Novel- Book 1

  Emera Rose

  Contents

  Title Page

  Acknowledgements

  Prelude

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue -Tahmas POV

  About the Author

  Slave of Froize- A Froize Trilogy Novel

  Copyright © 2020 by Emera Rose

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without the written permission of the author.

  Acknowledgements

  To my own King, I see so much strength in you from how you take care of me and the girls to how you step out into the world every day and live honorably. Thank you for all you do.

  To my mommies little royals, you girls are everything to me and I can’t wait until you grow into the strong princesses that you are. Remember that to lead is not always an easy road but I believe that you both have the qualities of strong leaders.

  To my readers, welcome to Emera Rose’s journey, I promise it’s going to be a wild ride! Thank you for all that you do and I hope you enjoy this story as much as I do!

  Prelude

  The horses reared as the stranger made his way through the stable. They had never seen someone like him, let alone something like him. I crouched down further in my little hiding space, trying desperately not to breathe too hard. He walked past me oblivious to the fact I was there, my knees hurt as I tried to turn my body to watch him glide out of the barn. The slight noise I made while shifting was enough to alert him of my presence.

  He turned, the metal armor on his arms and shoulders protesting at the movement. “Who’s there? It is not wise to hide from me for when I find you; the punishment will be severe.”

  The horses reared again at the sound of his voice; it wasn’t something that they’d heard before. It vibrated and sliced through the air like daggers. The gravelly sound hitting my ears and instantly making me more frightened. I peered at him through the small hole in front of my face and prayed that he didn’t find me. I watched as his legs took each step, measured, and calculated. He looked scrawny with no more meat on his thighs than that of a preteen, but still, there was a power about him that I did not want to test.

  He walked close to my hiding spot, so close I had to hold my breath, fearing he would hear me. I quietly sucked in all the air I could and hoped he would not turn around. He shifted his armor once more and turned his small-statured frame from my line of sight, “Fine, have it your way. Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”

  He turned toward the door, and from my position, I could see the profile of his face. The moon must be playing tricks on me, it must! I felt my heart speed up, and a cold sweat covered my body. I watched as the intruder moved his head side to side, trying to find me but coming up short. I moved again; my body no longer able to obey the order to stay still. He grinned, the movement of his lips, allowing me to see what I’m sure had to have been a mistake! He had fangs! While not being overly long, they were quite pronounced with an almost iridescent sheen. I slapped my hand to my mouth, afraid the scream I could feel bubbling in my throat would escape. The strain of keeping the noise contained in my body and keeping still was taking a toll. My legs shook from staying in such an awkward position, and my back ached from my hunched posture. My hands were cramping from covering my mouth so tightly. I couldn’t stay like this for long without giving myself away.

  Without any warning, he flashed to my hiding spot, his eye peering through the peephole, gazing right back at me. “Hello, Pretty.”

  I was so shocked at the speed of him moving to my hiding place, that I bumped my head. I tried to stand, but the enclosure was much too small for that. I fell back down into my original position, once again peering into this monster's eye. I backed away as far as I could, with my back pressing against the small doggy door. The eye squinted, and there was a long soft hissing sound. A sound I’d heard before, the sound right before a snake attacked. I tried to look away but was trapped by its gaze. Suddenly he yelled, “Boo!”

  I jumped sky-high, hitting my head again, but this time I screamed with everything I had and crawled out of the doggy door as fast as my body would let me and ran. Mud caking my peasant shoes, rocks were cutting through the cloth into my toes. I didn’t care; I only knew I had to get home. My father would know what to do. He had to!

  I ran home so fast that the usual ten-minute walk took less than four minutes. Even though I knew that the monster was behind me, I could not help but feel the uncertainty as I opened the door to my home.

  “Mama?” I called as quietly as I could, my throat was so raw from screaming I barely could get out a sound. I heard no reply. I cleared my throat, calling for her again, “Mama?” This time with a slight squeak at the end. Still no answer. My home was dark, the fire cold, and the candles looked as though they’d been extinguished in a hurry. The only light I had was from the moon. Luckily, I knew my home in the dark. Mama always had me in bed early, but even a seven-year-old knew that the best part of the day was the night. I knew every crack and crevice, every plank that made a noise, and every spot I could hide to stay out of mama’s sight. This time I used what I knew against the monsters. I walked up the stairs toward mama and pa’s room, skipping the third and seventh step; those were the squeaky ones. I walked into their bedroom, to a sight I would never forget; a sight that burned into my brain. I tried to scream, but no sound came out, and I fell noisily to the ground and sobbed.

  “Pa, pa!” I reached over and shook his still frame, nothing. There was a small puddle of blood coming from two slash marks on his neck, but he looked just as he had earlier. His blue tunic now ripped and torn from what looked like his last fight. I reached for his face, praying for him to open his eyes just one last time, but when his head just flopped from one side to the other, I knew there was no hope. My pa was dead. I put my head to his forehead and cried some more; my tears streaking through the dirt on his face. One instant I was holding pa the next, I was being pulled backward with a hand over my mouth. I tried to fight, but my little body was no match for their strength. I kicked and clawed, but it didn’t help. I was slammed into a closet along with my captor. Before I was able to turn around and see who had me, I relaxed. Even in the dark, the smell of honeysuckle and sugar cane wafted in the air. It was mama.

  I turned into her at once and cried. She pushed her hand back over my mouth to keep the noise muffled.

  “Shh, shh, my child, you mustn't cry, we have to be strong now.” She looked me in the eyes, trying to give me some of her strength, but seeing my pa dead on the floor was enough for this seven-year-old to completely give up. I turned into her familiar scent and cried some more.

  “Laramie! Stop that this instant, I will miss pa too, but you have to be strong now.”

  “But mama, why? What’s happened?” I looked up at her in the dark, hoping for her to tell me it was going to be alright.

  “I think it's a gleaning,” she looked away from me. I was too afraid for her to see my reaction, so I kept my eyes from her f
ace. I laughed silently to myself. That was the silliest thing I’d ever heard! The gleaning was just a tale that parents and older siblings told the little ones to keep them from misbehaving. It wasn’t real, I mean even I knew that.

  ‘Do your chores, and do them well or the undead will take you away’ or the ‘Be nice and polite, or the undead will take you away’ and my personal favorite, ‘Eat your vegetables, or the undead will take you away’. How my mother honestly thought that this was a gleaning was ridiculous.

  "Laramie, listen to me, you mustn't fight them if they take you just do as they say."

  "Mama, there is no such thing as a gleaning, no such thing as monsters!" I was upset she was still going on and on about this gleaning.

  "Child look around, what do you think is happening?" She shook me slightly, a drop of sweat from her brow hit me right on top of my upper lip. It quivered under the weight.

  "Mama, I don't want to leave, don't let them take me." I cried again, smothering my face against her housedress.

  "My love, I will do everything I can, but if they do take you, don't fight them! Strength is knowing when and where to fight! Now is not the time!" She stared in my eyes, pupils wide from the darkness, imploring me to understand and accept. I did.

  "Ok, mama, I won't fight," I said, defeated.

  She held on to me tightly as we listened to the town folks screaming and running away from whatever chased them. The air stilled, and silence smothered us, a loud footstep echoed on our front porch and continued into our home. Someone was making their way up our stairs. Mama kissed my forehead once and pulled me behind her, trying to protect me from whatever was coming. The footsteps became louder and louder as the intruder made their way closer and closer to us. Surrounded by a flurry of light and dust, the door to the closet was yanked open, revealing a face; it was the same monster from the barn! I grabbed onto my mother, wishing this was all just a bad dream, praying that we would wake up soon, and pa would be on his way to mend the fences. Suddenly a whip of air smashed into my face, and my hands were empty. The monster had my mother against his body, head tilted to the side, both sets of eyes glued on me. One set amused and daring, the other frightened and filled with despair.

  "You remember what I told you, remember to be strong!" She said one final time, and with one last gasp, the monster bared his teeth and sunk them into her ivory flesh. I watched as my mother was drained in front of me. Her once plump face, concaving as the seconds ticked on. I inhaled, stopping the screams from coming out of my mouth in the process, only to watch her mouth her final words to me, "I love you."

  She was gone before I could repeat the sentiment. The monster finished his meal, and just like she was garbage to be left out on the side of the road dropped her on the ground.

  I could feel the anger building in my body, quickly taking the place of sadness. I hated him, and if I thought I had the slightest chance to win, I would’ve fought back. I would have rammed my knee straight into his face and took joy in seeing his stupid gleaming teeth splatter all over the floor. But I had made my mother a promise, I would be strong, and being strong right now meant surrendering.

  I knelt next to my mother, silent tears still flowing down my cheeks. I kissed her hollow frame once and took her ring from her hand. It was passed down from her great great grandmother, and not something I would leave behind. I slipped the green jewel around my finger, but it was too big, for now I would just hold it. I would be able to wear it and wear it proudly one day.

  I stood up, eyes down, in front of the monster. Waiting for him to tell me of my fate. After a minute had passed and he still had not said anything, I took a chance and peered upwards. He was staring at me. I didn't know what he wanted to do, but I knew I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of any more tears. If there was one thing that mama and pa taught me, it was to be strong. I raised my chin and waited.

  "Yes, you’ll do fine." He smiled at me.

  The image of him smiling at me would haunt me all the days I can remember, far longer than the smile of my mother and the feel of the scruff on my father’s face, I would remember that smile.

  Chapter 1

  "Laramie! Do you not hear me when I call for you?" Davorin yelled. I dropped my washing rag on the still dirty stone and ran as quickly as I could toward him. Before I could get in the correct position, he raised his hand and smacked me hard across my face. The motion was quicker than I could see, but the sting below my lip let me know that I would have a large bruise on my face in the morning.

  "I am sorry, Master," I said as apologetic as I could manage, even though inside, my blood boiled in a blind rage.

  "Yes, you are sorry, you’ve always been sorry." He spat in my direction the acidic venom leaving a pockmark on the floor. "My armor needs to be polished and put away. If I find so much as a particle of dirt, your hide will pay for it!"

  I picked up the heavy armor and trudged back to where the cleaning supplies were stored. The clang of the metal agitating my ears. I just wanted to drop it all, but I knew Davorin would hear it land, and within seconds would be in the room to punish me.

  It had been twelve years since I‘d been taken from my farm, with tears coursing down my face, squeezing the small green ring that was once my mothers in the palm of my hand. The cut on my palm from the stone, to this day, reminds me of mama and the promise I made. I would be strong even if strong meant to suffer the punishment. I wouldn't do anything to anger them to the point they would take my life. No, I would survive. In the beginning, when I was brought here, it was for a gleaning. A large banquet for the vampires at which they only drank from the most beautiful of women. The other people they abducted were either held captive, their blood saved for another day, or they were turned to increase their army. The smaller ones, like myself, were used as slaves. We cleaned and mended, waiting tensely for the cruel tricks the vampires liked to play on us. They were partial to wounding us and leaving us to bleed out. Then they would wait to see if someone could come to our aid before we died.

  My master was Davorin, and I hated him. I’d spat in his blood cup once, and he tasted it. He threw me on the rack until every bone was torn from their sockets, ligaments stretched past their ability and my skin torn apart. I had been nine years old when I suffered the punishment of the rack, and today at the age of nineteen, I still had a limp. It wasn’t too noticeable when I moved at a normal pace, but it held me back when I moved too fast. I slung the massive armor further up my arm, trying to hold it closer to my body to stop the sounds from echoing against the stone walls.

  "Girl, if you drop my wares, I swear on your life..." Davorin screamed, causing me to jump.

  "No, Master."

  It would take me all day to clean his armor the way he wanted, and that meant I would miss my daily chores, another no-no. I couldn't ask for help. To ask for help around here would mean you owed favors, and you never wanted to owe anyone a favor.

  "Laramie!" I ran out to the foyer to see my washing rag still on the floor, I’d forgotten it. Madison looked at me with disgust. "Why must you clutter up my immaculate home with this rubbish? You would think you were raised by pigs. In fact, you smell as though you have." She grabbed me hard by my hair and threw me toward the stone. "Clean this place up immediately!"

  "Yes, Madam." I dare not rub my scalp, although it felt like it was bleeding.

  "Ugh, I don't know why he keeps you around."

  I knew why he liked to watch me squirm. I was the only one who Davorin couldn't get a rise out of. No matter the punishment or the request, I would just do as I was told. It wouldn't matter what he did; I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking me.

  "I am sorry, Madam."

  She hissed in my direction and walked into the room with Davorin. A loud growl vibrated the walls around me, and a giggle floated through the corridor.

  "I have waited for you all day, woman. Why is this, can't you see my need?"

  "Davorin, you are always in need," she giggled again.


  I couldn't see what was going on and I wasn't trying to see it anyway, their love life was their own business, I didn't want to know.

  ***

  I sat in my cell, more of a closet than a cell actually. There was only a small window for ventilation, but not low enough for me to look out of. There was no bed or bathroom, no water, and no light. The lack of light was the main problem I had. I could get by without the window or the bed, but to live in various levels of darkness was always pushing me closer to the edge of sanity.

  Here in Frioze, there was no direct light. The whole place seemed to be covered in a rain cloud, and it always seemed as if the world was in constant darkness. Some days it was brighter than others, but I had never felt one ray of light on my cold, pale skin. There were times I wanted to sleep away the night, but that was an impossibility. I sat back and watched as a small puddle of water formed by my feet, it had rained last week, and the lasting wetness had made its way into my cell. I made sure not to step in it or soil it any further than it was, as that water may be all I had to drink for some time. They forgot to feed us sometimes. I guess it could be worse; they could make me drink blood.

  "Psst," a sound came from the cell one over.

  I rolled my eyes, annoyed that she was still going against the rules after all this time. We were only allowed to speak in the presence of our masters or their spouses, never any other time. Leann never seemed to be able to keep her mouth shut and had gotten me into trouble quite a few times.

  "Psst."

  "What?"

  "Have you seen the new prince yet?"

  I didn't answer, not because I hadn't but because I hadn't even known we were due a new prince.

  "Have you? I heard he’s worse than old man Stelian, younger but just as cruel," she pushed again.

  Stelian was next in line to marry Margot, the only heir for the present king. They’d had their engagement gleaning, but he was called off to war shortly after and died on the battlefield. Frioze cannot be without a king or queen as there would be civil unrest, so there is always a long line of suitors for each prospective king or queen.

 

‹ Prev