Chapter 2

"My Lord," Ava called, her hands tightly clasped together as she fidgeted with her pale, long fingers.

Funny how suddenly, she became shy.

He turned, his brow furrowed at her boldness. For the first time after many countless meetings, she finally had the courage to address him. He knows she isn't one to be afraid, seeing how many times she stood her ground from manipulators at the pack. A sly, yet barely visible smile crossed his strikingly handsome face. As he gazed down at her, his body half-turned towards her, he clasped his hands tightly behind him, waiting for her to speak.

She bowed, a customary gesture from a slave to their master, and this slave staring at him was his to keep. He had brought her here, and he wouldn't let anyone harm her, especially since she was his mate. She was his to protect.

"My Lord, I'm very thankful for..."

"Have you eaten, Ava?" he interrupted as her stomach grumbled. She quickly raised her head in surprise and placed her hands on her stomach, as if willing it to stop making noises. His lips twitched again in admiration. Every action she took piqued his interest, a constant reminder that Ava belonged to him. His wolf growled, urging him to claim her, but he resisted; she was only eighteen. Eighteen, with the perfect curves and an enchanting beauty, one he had observed closely as she grew up over the past ten years.

"What did you say, my Lord?" Now Ava believed that everyone else around was probably staring at her with disgust and hatred. And how much she loved that!

"Have you eaten?" Logan repeated. Repeating himself wasn't something he enjoyed, but he made an exception for her.

"Oh yes, my Lord," she lied, smiling, her hands wandering to her stomach. "I had a lot of..." her stomach growled again, cutting her off, and she nervously bit her lip.

"Hmmm, I see," Logan said, turning to leave. "Follow me."

"What?" She asked, despite hearing him clearly. She couldn't believe he had asked her to follow him.

"Ava," he called out, a reminder that he detested repeating himself.

"Yes, my Lord." She followed him quietly out of the Park slave quarters into a spacious area reserved for elites. She knew he was the Alpha's son; she was well aware of that. But he was also known as the Leader of the Pack due to his relentless efforts in protecting the Park from rogue invasions.

He led her to a building, a castle-like structure that left her in awe. She had never seen anything so beautiful, except perhaps when she was a child in her own pack many years ago. The beauty of this perfectly constructed building surpassed anything she had ever seen. Shirley must have been fortunate to work in such a place. Since Mrs. Beverly didn't like her, she never had the opportunity to work outside the slave quarters.

"The Palace, is this it, my Lord?" She asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"No," he replied simply. "This is my chamber. The palace is a two-hour ride from here, Ava."

Her eyes widened in shock. Why did he choose to live among the slaves? Did Shirley have to travel four hours each day to tend to the Queen?

"Come," he urged her further, pointing towards the dining area filled with food. "Sit and eat, Ava. Don't hold back because you won't be coming here again."

Her eyes sparkled at the array of foods laid out on the table, and her mouth watered instantly. Her stomach grumbled, urging her to indulge, but she hesitated.

"Why, my Lord?" She couldn't help but ask. "Why must I feast at your table when I can wait until noon? The food there is also very good."

Despite the internal battle between his wolf and himself to silence her with a kiss, a slight frown creased his face at her curiosity. "Is that the appreciation I get for ensuring my slave doesn't collapse while working?" 

"My Slave," Logan repeated inwardly, a sign of possessiveness.

To avoid showing any signs of interest or emotion, Logan knew he had to be firm with her. While he cared for his slaves, she was special. Since bringing her to the Pack, he had made it a priority to provide better quality food. He wanted to witness her growth and blossoming right before his eyes.

She quickly bowed. "I'm so sorry, my Lord. I don't take your kindness for granted."

He grunted and motioned for her to sit. She complied and reluctantly began to eat, while he also sat, observing her closely.

After what felt like an eternity, she was too full to stand, her eyes struggling to stay open. She stared at the table intently, wondering if she had consumed garlic by mistake.

"My Lord," she called weakly, her eyes fighting to stay open. No, she couldn't let herself fall asleep. She had to return to the hearth, or her workload would double.

"Ava, are you alright?" Logan asked, concerned, as he quickly moved to her side.

"I think I ate garlic... I'm allergic to it, my Lord," she gasped, her throat feeling sore and itchy.

"Garlic?" He inquired, holding her firmly in his arms, her head resting against his chest as she felt the discomfort. Her wolf caught a whiff of his wolf's scent, and she longed to embrace him.

"Bryan!" Logan called, and a man in his early forties hurried into the dining area, wearing an apron.

"Is there garlic in the food?"

The man bowed and nodded. "Yes, my Lord. I added it as seasoning to the chicken."

"Goodness!" He exclaimed, picking her up in his arms. "Get the physician immediately. Tell them it's urgent."

"Yes, sir," Bryan replied, rushing out of the room. Logan carried her in his arms and took her upstairs to his room. He laid her down and was about to call for someone to fetch the physician when her hands grasped him tightly.

Ava watched him turn and look at her, her wolf ecstatic as she realised the truth.

"Mate," she whispered before drifting off, letting darkness envelop her words.