Dylan smith's Arc

Chapter 3 of 12

Voracia left the castle at dawn to settle a matter in the lower hall. Dylan stayed on the terrace with one hand on a pitcher of cold water. He heard boots on stone behind him and turned too late. A purple arm hooked his waist. A wet cloth came over his mouth. The last thing he saw was a swell of belly pressed against his back and a flash of dark hair. Then the terrace went sideways and the sky went black. He woke on a narrow bed inside a small black cabin with a red door. A window showed pine trunks and nothing else. Sara sat across from him in a purple dress, one hand resting on top of her bloated belly. "I saw you in town," she said. "You looked at my belly before my face. I haven't slept right since." She stood and walked to the bed in a slow, practiced step. She took his wrist and pressed his palm flat against the curve of her stomach. The skin was warm. She drew a breath and let out a burp that rattled the window glass. "I can do this for you," she said. "Anytime. Say the word." Dylan tried to pull his hand back. She held it there. Miles off, Voracia stepped onto the terrace and found the pitcher tipped and Dylan gone. The collar's signal pulsed faint through the stone under her boot. She followed it out past the castle wall and into the trees. A carved boulder stood at a fork in the path, its spiral grooves lit pink and blue, the marks shifting as the trace pulled her left. She did not run. She walked, and the ground shook a little under each step. The red door blew off its hinges. Voracia filled the doorway. Sara still held Dylan's hand on her belly. Voracia's eyes went flat. Dylan got his voice back first. "She grabbed me," he said. "She made me touch her. I'm sorry." The watch on his wrist ticked once, loud. Voracia crossed the room in three steps. She pulled Dylan against her side and lifted both his hands onto her own belly, one high, one low. She kept her eyes on Sara the whole time. She breathed in slow and let out a burp that knocked a cup off the shelf and cracked the floorboard under Sara's heel. "Dylan is mine," she said. "Come near him again. Even think about burping in his direction. I will erase you from existence." Sara's hand slid off her own stomach. She gave one short nod and did not speak. Voracia walked Dylan out through the broken doorway. His hands stayed on her belly the whole way. Behind them, Sara stood in the dim cabin and watched the trees swallow them. The collar at Dylan's throat pulsed steady blue again. He had been taken and brought back, and the rule had grown teeth.