Chapter 3

Catherine pov

I listened carefully to her words, trying to hold back my laughter. Was she crazy to think that I could be Luna?

Looking around, I observed our surroundings just like she did when we first met. The air smelled strongly of old food and sweat. I could hear the noise of pots and pans clanging and faint voices in the distance.

As I leaned in to whisper, I felt her warm breath against my ear. "It's not funny," I said, sounding frustrated. "Why do you think I'm Luna? Here, everyone is a slave."

Despite her serious expression, I couldn't help but find her words amusing.

Suddenly, a bell rang, and everyone in the kitchen looked up and hurried out into the hallway. I watched in frustration as they scurried around, while Mora pulled my hand to lead me away.

While we walked, Mora cautioned me, "Don't talk about what I told you to anyone else, or we might never see daylight again. And don't trust anyone here, they'll only get you into trouble."

Leaving the kitchen, I saw a line of people with their heads down. Confused, I was about to ask Mora what was happening when I heard heavy footsteps approaching.

Looking up, I saw Alpha Lux walking ahead, accompanied by the two men who brought me here. Mora quickly pulled my head down, and I realized I had been staring.

It felt like we were all puppets, dancing to the orders of our cruel master.

Mora and I continued to look at the ground while she said, "Don't look at them." This is rule number three.

The sight was a mix of dusty ground, pebbles, and occasional patches of grass. The air was slightly dry and smelled faintly of soil. The only sounds were footsteps and rustling leaves.

I did as she asked and kept my face down, hoping to avoid drawing attention. Although I wasn't yet familiar with all the rules, I felt confident that with practice, I could understand them and stay out of trouble.

I kept my eyes on Alpha's feet as he walked in front of me. I wasn't sure if he was looking my way. I focused on his feet as I suddenly felt a burning sensation throughout my body.

His hands touched my chin, and I was afraid to look at his face. His touch felt like a scorching hot iron on my skin. I quickly glanced down, not wanting to repeat my earlier mistake. My body was already covered in sweat, and my heart raced.

He spoke with such arrogance, yelling, "Look at me." The sound of his voice was like a cracking whip in the silence. I didn't dare blink because I was terrified. I was too scared to look at him with my eyes open.

The room was quiet when he shouted, "Look at me!" It was so silent that his voice echoed in my ears. Suddenly, I opened my eyes and found myself staring back into his gray eyes.

When I looked at him, I felt a strange sensation, like a strong force pulling me towards him. It was as if I were a small boat being pulled by a powerful tide.

I hit myself and hoped nothing foolish would happen after realizing the kind of thoughts going through my head. Why would I even consider thinking that? It felt like my mind was playing tricks on me.

He came closer to me. He still held my chin. I didn't blink or move, but I was sweating profusely. It was like being caught in a spider's web, unable to move as the predator approached.

As he got nearer, I could feel his breath on my neck. I shivered with a mix of fear and disgust. His closeness was overwhelming, and I wanted to step back, but I felt trapped.

He looked unpleasant. He seemed messy, with greasy hair and a scruffy beard. His eyes darted around, as if searching for something, and I felt like I was being observed closely.

The smell of alcohol and sweat hung heavy in the air, making me wrinkle my nose in disgust. It was a sickly sweet smell that made me want to gag.

When he spoke, his words were slurred and he stumbled over the syllables. The sound of his voice was annoying, like nails on a chalkboard.

When he licked his lips, I pulled away in disgust. It was a creepy gesture that made me feel uncomfortable.

He leaned in and whispered in my ear, his breath hot and moist against my skin. It was an intimate gesture, but it made me feel violated and uneasy.

At that moment, I realized he wasn't the man I thought he was. He was rude and disrespectful, and I regretted coming to this place. It was going to be a long night, and I felt a sense of dread.

"I need to get away from him," I thought, feeling my heart pounding. But he grabbed my sleeves and pulled me back, his angry glare piercing through me.

"Now, Slave," he sneered, "you should know your place." The smell of his breath made me cringe. "Just because you've been chosen to be my partner doesn't mean I won't use you as I please, does it?"

I turned to face him, taking in his tall figure and the fierce look in his eyes. Was he suggesting that I was chosen to be his partner? Confusion filled my mind, but as I looked at him again, his smile sent shivers down my spine.

"Didn't your foolish father tell you?" he chuckled, his voice grating on my ears. "This time, you have been blessed to become my mate."

I pushed him away and struck him where it hurt the most, feeling the satisfying crunch of my knuckles against his skin.

As I turned to run away, someone grabbed my sleeves and pulled me back, causing me to fall. He cut me as I fell, preventing me from hitting the ground. The look in his eyes told me it was better to fall than face the impending horror, so even though I should have been grateful, I wasn't.

He slammed me against the wall as I tried to escape. The force of the impact caused a sharp pain in my head. My vision became blurry, and I struggled to stay upright. I could smell the musty scent of the old brick wall against my cheek.

The sound of my own gasping breath echoed in my ears as I staggered backward. I reached out my hand to steady myself, feeling the rough texture of the wall beneath