A dull, throbbing ache pulsed behind Elara's eyes, syncing with the heavy beat of her heart.
Her first sensation was the cold. Not the crisp, clean cold of the forest night, but a damp, earthy chill that seeped into her bones.
Then came the heat, a conflicting, unnatural fever that pooled in her stomach and made her skin feel overly sensitive, as if every nerve ending was exposed.
She tried to move, to bring her hand to her aching head, but her arms wouldn't obey. A sharp tug at her wrists stopped her.
The sweet, cloying scent of the flower poison still lingered in the back of her throat, making her feel nauseous.
She tried to bring her hands up to rub her aching temples, but she couldn't. Her arms were stuck.
"Nngh..." she groaned, her eyes fluttering open.
The world was dim and blurry. She wasn't in her warm bedroom anymore.
"Wh—what?" Her eyes snapped open. Panic surged instantly, clearing the last of the drug-induced fog.
Her arms were stretched high above her head, her wrists bound tight with rough hemp rope that bit into her skin.
The rope was looped over a thick, gnarled root protruding from the ceiling, pulling her body taut.
She blinked, trying to clear the haze, and realized with a jolt of panic that her feet were barely touching the floor.
"Oh god..." she gasped. She was hanging.
"Finally awake?" A rough voice cut through the silence. "I was starting to think I used too much powder."
Elara's head whipped up, fighting the wave of dizziness that washed over her.
Standing just a few feet away was the man she had seen only in passing around the camp.
Varg. He was still wearing his dark leather armor, but his heavy belt was unbuckled, the metal hanging loose.
"You?" Elara rasped, her voice dry. "Where... where am I?"
She tugged at the ropes binding her wrists, but they only tightened, biting into her skin. "Let me down! Do you know who I am?"
Varg chuckled, standing up slowly. He wiped his greasy hands on his pants and walked toward her. "I know exactly who you are. You're that cripple Scott's woman."
"My husband... Scott..." Elara tried to sound authoritative, though she felt terrified. "He will kill you for this."
"If you let me go now, you can leave with your life. We have food, weapons... take whatever you want."
Varg stopped right in front of her. He was close enough that she could smell the stale tobacco on him.
"You don't get it, do you?" Varg sneered. "Your husband is a walking corpse. He can't save you. And I don't want your food."
His eyes dropped, raking over her body.
The thin nightgown she wore was stretched tight across her chest due to her arms being raised.
The sheer fabric did nothing to hide the heavy curve of her breasts or the nip of her waist.
"I want this," he whispered.
Elara recoiled as much as she could, pressing her back against the rough wood of the tree hollow. "Don't touch me! You filth!"
She kicked out, her bare foot connecting weakly with his shin, but her strength was sapped. The 'Siren Mushroom' was still coursing through her veins.
The kick was weak, barely a tap.
Varg didn't even flinch. He caught her ankle in one hand with a strong grip.
"Feisty," he murmured, his thumb rubbing circles against the skin of her calf. "I like that."
A jolt of heat shot up Elara's leg at his touch.
It wasn't pleasure, it was a chemical reaction, a betrayal of her own body caused by the drug. She whimpered, trying to pull her leg back, but he held fast.
"Please," Elara changed tactics, her breathing becoming ragged. "You... you want money? Life energy cores? I can get them for you. Scott has a stash. Just let me go, and you can have it all. You can leave the camp a rich man."
Varg released her ankle and stepped right up to her, invading her personal space. He smelled of sweat, leather, and unwashed desire.
"Haha… Why would I do that?" Varg whispered, leaning in until his nose brushed against her neck. "I've watched you for months, waiting patently… isn't it just for this moment?"
He reached out, his rough fingers tracing the line of her jaw, forcing her to look at him.
"Scott wasted you," he spat the name with venom. "He never touched you like a real man should. But I will."
Elara squeezed her eyes shut, turning her face away.
Tears of frustration and terror leaking out.
The drug was making her head spin, making the heat in her belly intensify with every second. She felt vulnerable, exposed, and terrified.
"Don't do this," she begged, her voice cracking.
He grabbed the hem of her nightgown, which had ridden up her thighs.
"Open your eyes," he commanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous, lustful whisper. "I want you to see who your new master is."
Elara kept her eyes shut tight, her mind racing desperately.
"Stall him," she thought. "I just need to stall him. Mom will find me. Scott... Scott will save me."
But deep down, the image of Scott's withered, aged face in the healing chamber haunted her.
"If you touch me," Elara whispered, her voice trembling but hard as she gathered the little moisture left in her mouth.
She spat, a glob of saliva landing squarely on his cheek. "You filth, I swear to the Heartwood tree, I will kill you myself. Even if it takes my last breath."
Varg's expression darkened instantly.
The twisted amusement vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp anger that made the air in the cave feel heavy.
He slowly raised a hand to his face, wiping away the spit with a leather-gloved finger.
He looked at it for a second, then back at her.
"Filth?" he growled, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. "You think you're high and mighty because you sleep in the Lord's bed? You're just meat. Just like the rest of us."
In a blur of motion, his hand went to his waist.
With a sharp metallic clink, he ripped his heavy leather belt free from the loops. He doubled the leather over in his hand, pulling it taut with a sharp snap.
"Looks like you need to learn your place, girl."
Snap.
He swung the belt hard. The folded leather lashed out, biting into the soft, exposed skin of her thigh.
"Ahhh!" Elara screamed, her body jerking violently against the ropes holding her wrists.
But because of the 'Siren Mushroom' coursing through her blood, the sensation didn't just hurt, it exploded into a confusing, electric shock that rippled through her sensitive nerves.
Her skin was already hypersensitive from the drug, making the strike feel like fire branding her flesh.
Tears sprung to her eyes from the sharp, stinging pain.