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Personal Colors
Data de publicação:
2026-09-18 20:02:41
Último capítulo
Claimed by Alpha Xorax and his sons The Slip
Asher’s POVMy boots hit the cold flagstones of the corridor, the oak door snapping shut behind me.I didn't stop right away. I kept my chin up and my spine straight, taking long, steady strides down the dim hallway away from Vaelin’s war room. My jaw still ached where his damn fingers had dug into my skin, but I kept my face blank for the two guards stationed outside. They watched me pass but I didn't give them a glance.The second I turned the corner and stepped into the quiet shadow of a stone archway, my knees buckled.I slammed my back against the damp stone wall and slid down a few inches, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. My hands were shaking. Actually shaking. I stared at my trembling fingers in the dark, hating myself for it, hating every weak bone in my body.Fuck this… fuck all of this.My breathing came fast and ragged. The deadpan mask I’d worn for weeks was cracking, piece by piece, and I couldn't stop it. Vaelin was nothing like Kaelen. Kaelen was blinded
Claimed by Alpha Xorax and his sons The Calculus of War
Vaelin’s POVThe noise in the main hall was loud enough to give a lesser man a headache.Hundreds of drunken Western warlords downing ale, tearing into roasted meat with their hands, and shouting over each other like animals in a pit. I didn't drink. I barely touched the meat on my plate. My eyes stayed glued to the room, tracking every guard rotation, every open exit, and every idiot who had too much wine in his belly.Then my brother made a complete fool of himself.CLANG.Kaelen slammed his iron flagon onto the high table, the sound cutting straight through the roaring chatter around us.I didn't turn my head right away. I just cut my eyes sideways, watching the scene play out. Malakor—that fat, worthless excuse for a steward—was standing over the Eastern slave with his right fist pulled back, ready to strike. The slave stood there, holding a silver wine pitcher, his face totally blank. But it wasn't the boy's split lip or his cold eyes that made my pulse spike.It was the damn shi
Claimed by Alpha Xorax and his sons The Feast of Shadows
Asher’s POVTheir damn eyes couldn't leave me as I walked into the inner kitchen hall.Every single house slave stopped what they were doing. Hands holding wooden spoons froze mid-stir. Their eyes widened, moving over the high collared crimson silk and the silver trim cut along my shoulders. Whispers rippled across the room."What in the moon goddess are you wearing, Ash?" Lyra appeared at my side, her hands instantly reaching out to run her fingers over the smooth fabric of my sleeve. "What's with the colors?"She gasped, her eyes scanning my chest up to my jaw. "And gosh... you look fine. Almost royal."I scoffed, grabbed her wrists, and dragged her into a dark corner behind the wine casks before the guards took notice."I don't know why," I muttered, keeping my voice low so only she could hear, "but Prince Kaelen wants me in these damn clothes.""Kaelen?" Her voice dropped to a terrified squeak. "Ash... that's his personal household livery. Only his direct servants wear crimson. Yo
Claimed by Alpha Xorax and his sons Personal Colors
Asher’s POVI made it back to the slave quarters before my knees gave out beneath me.The low cellar smelled like wet limestone, sweat, and old tallow candles. Everyone was out cold. Row after row of thin straw mats crowded the dirt floor, thick breathing and harsh snores filling the darkness.I dropped onto my mat, my back striking the floor hard enough to knock the breath straight out of me. Fuck.My jaw still burned, and the cut on my lip throbbed. I stared up at the cracked ceiling, my brain turning over the same thoughts in endless, messy circles. Kaelen’s hot breath on my skin. The blood coating my tongue. The binder sitting in that hidden drawer. I kept tracing that boundary until my eyes burned too badly to stay open, and sleep finally dragged me under.SPLASH.Ice-cold water smacked me right across the face.I sat up fast, coughing, choking, and shaking off the shock. The same bastard guard stood over me with a fucked up wooden bucket dangling from his fist, a yellow-toothe
Claimed by Alpha Xorax and his sons The Price of Curiosity
Asher’s POVI didn’t get time to pull free or shut the false drawer.CRACK.The open palm hit the side of my face hard enough to snap my head sideways. Fuck! A sharp, deafening ring filled my left ear and stayed there. I stumbled into the desk, the mahogany edge digging hard into my hip. Fresh blood filled my mouth, warm and metallic over my tongue. I swallowed hard so I wouldn't choke on my own copper-tasted spit.I didn’t scream. I didn’t drop.I caught the edge of the desk with both hands and held on. I forced my chest to rise and fall, counting each breath until the room stopped spinning.One. Two. Three. The whole left side of my face pulsed with heat. When my vision finally cleared, Prince Kaelen was standing over me.His eyes flicked toward the open false drawer. It lasted only a second, but I caught it. His anger wasn’t just about what I’d touched. He knew exactly what I’d found.Oh no… fuck no… I’m done. This bastard is actually going to kill me right here on the carpet.T
Claimed by Alpha Xorax and his sons Who is N-17?
Asher’s POVThe private wing of Prince Kaelen felt like a different world from the soot and heat of the lower hearths.The black stone walls were covered with thick crimson cloth to keep out the mountain cold. Soft carpets swallowed the sound of my boots. The air smelled of burning jasmine oil, old wine, and expensive tobacco. Quiet. Warm. Dangerous in a way the open labor halls never were. Down below, everything smelled of ash and blood and unwashed bodies. Up here, the citadel pretended it was clean.“You don’t touch the silver lockboxes,” Head Steward Malakor said as he walked me down the private gallery. The gold light from the wall lamps made his face look even meaner. “You don’t read the open papers. You have to clean the bath, light the incense, and lay out the Prince’s evening clothes. If a single feather on his bed is out of place, I’ll skin you in the lower yard myself.”His stupid favorite line. “Yes, Head Steward.”I kept my chin down and my hands inside my sleeves. My ra
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