Ownership

Odessa led the procession of women into a vast, cavernous chamber lit by flickering braziers, her boots echoing alongside the clipped steps of two other female Betas, their leather armor creaking softly. The women, freshly washed and draped in plain wool dresses the color of ash, shuffled in a tight line, their damp hair gleaming under the braziers’ glow. Scarlett stood out, her silver hair, now clean and loosely braided, a defiant shimmer, her honey-brown eyes scanning the hall’s towering pillars, her simple gray dress a stark contrast to the rags of her captivity. The other Omegas, clad in similar coarse garments, kept their eyes downcast, their steps faltering under the scrutiny of the hall

The air crackled with tension as Alpha Lycan Winter Drayonne strode in, August Saffron at his heel, the Beta’s amber gaze sweeping the room with casual vigilance, his lean frame relaxed but alert. Winter’s presence filled the space, his midnight cloak trailing like a shadow, his armor glinting coldly. A thin scar carved a pale line through his left eye, from brow to cheek, a mark that only sharpened the lethal glint of his storm-gray gaze and the piercing clarity of his stare.

He moved along the line of women, assessing each with a predator’s precision, each woman shrank back under his scrutiny—until he stopped before Scarlett. His boots stilled, his scarred face tilting slightly as he regarded her. She held his gaze, chin high, meeting his without flinching, a spark of Oshea’s fire undimmed. For a heartbeat, the hall held its breath, narrowing to just the two of them, Winter’s gray eyes locking onto hers, assessing, calculating, as the weight of his silence heavier than any command, like frost over the room.

August stepped forward, approaching from behind, his boots soft on the polished stone, and leaned in to murmur at Winter’s ear. “She’s the one from the inn, my lord—the silver-haired purchase.”

Winter’s scarred face remained impassive, but a faint nod acknowledged the words, the scar through his left eye catching the firelight. “I know. I recall,” he said, his voice a low rumble that carried the weight of Dravonia’s frost.

Scarlett’s head snapped at August, honey-brown eyes flashed, her braid swaying as she snapped, “I am not a slave!” The words rang out, bold and reckless, drawing gasps from the other Omegas.

Odessa was quick to intervene, cracking a whip on Scarlett’s calf and drawing a small scream of pain from her, but the silver-haired girl remained standing. Winter lifted a hand to Odessa and the Beta retreated with a bow.

His gaze swiveled to her, cold and unblinking, the scar lending a savage edge to his already formidable presence. “Yet you were bought,” he countered, each word deliberate, a hammer striking stone. “Were you not?”

Scarlett’s breath hitched and her lips parted, but no retort came, the memory of her father’s murder, Leander’s smirk, and Skye’s betrayal flooding back, silencing her retort and choking her defiance. Winter’s gaze lingered, unyielding and he stepped closer, his cloak brushing the floor as the girl shrunk back.

“Five thousand gold coins,” he continued, his voice cutting deeper, “making you my most expensive slave.” He pivoted to Odessa, who stood rigid at the head of the line. “See this one is handled with care—for now.” The command settled like frost, heavy with implication and Scarlett’s hands trembled at her sides, her fire smoldering beneath the weight of his ownership and the memory of her shattered past.

His scarred gaze lingered on Scarlett a moment longer, the silence stretching taut as a bowstring, before he turned away. “Assign their roles. Ensure they serve without flaw.” he commanded, his voice echoing off the hall’s stone pillars like distant thunder.  “The Luna requires unwavering care.”

The Beta bowed her head sharply, her emerald eyes steady. Winter gave a curt nod to August, who fell into step beside him, and the two strode from the chamber, their boots fading into the corridor’s gloom, leaving the air charged with the Alpha’s lingering authority.

Odessa wasted no time, her voice crisp as she divided the Omegas, “You four—silver-hair included—to the Luna’s service. Tend her needs and anticipate her every whim, her time draws near. The rest, follow me.”

Scarlett and three wide-eyed women were herded away by Jada, another female Beta whose lithe form moved with a quiet authority, leading them through the castle’s labyrinthine halls to the harem’s veiled quarters, a secluded wing in a dimly lit alcove of silk-draped walls and the faint scent of lavender and secrecy. Their sleeping quarters were humble, a row of narrow bunk beds stacked like forgotten shelves, crammed against cool stone, draped in coarse wool mattresses thin as promises.

“These ranks aren’t etched in stone,” Jada explained, her voice laced with a survivor’s edge as she eyed Scarlett’s silver braid. “I arrived in chains as an Omega, bound and broken just like you, but Alpha Winter, for all his frost, rewards diligence and honors true labor without fail, honest work rises in his pack.”

Scarlett’s honey-brown eyes narrowed, but Jada pressed on. “Settle in rest while you can. I return at dawn to drill you on duties and present you to the Luna.” With that, she vanished into the shadows, leaving Scarlett to climb into her bunk, the other women murmuring fears, the weight of chains exchanged for service, her fire unquenched amid the harem’s whispers.