Chapter 3: Human Slave X Cursed Alpha Prince

Layla

“Mate.”

For a second, I honestly thought I had imagined it. But then every pair of eyes turned to me. The laughter, the music and the chatter was gone. Hundreds of eyes just staring at me. And for the first time in my life, I was seen.

Not as a servant or as a background shadow but as the center of their world. Only, it didn’t feel like being seen but iy felt like being hunted.

Whispers sliced through the silence.

“The cursed prince found his mate?” someone gasped.

“She is human!” another shrieked, like I was a cockroach on their food.

Then an absolute asshole yelled, “One is cursed and the other is a human slave. What a joke!”

Excuse you, sir. You are the joke.

I looked at the man standing next to me. He was the infamous Cursed Prince? Because wow. Midnight-black hair, burning red eyes, and a sharp jaw sharp that could put the king's sword to shame… Why did no one tell me the most feared wolf in the realm was so hot? I thought he would look like a literal monster, considering the rumors.

But dear lord… he wasn’t monstrous. He was delicious?

Like food.

Ugh. Focus, Layla. Fo-cus.

You cannot eat him. He is not food.

So why did he smell like dessert?

Okay, I’m officially losing my mind.

Again, an idle bitch spoke, “A slave? How dare she!”

“She bewitched him! Kill her before she kills us all!”

Excuse me, who are they talking about?

Me?

Why would they kill me?!

I pouted. It wasn’t my fault, I was his mate. The goddess chose him, not me!

The king’s voice boomed, “How can this be? An Alpha Prince and a human slave? Goddess, what kind of joke is this? Our bloodline has always been mated with stronger, worthy women. There has to be a mistake!”

Heat rushed to my cheeks.

I wanted to vanish. Melt into the marble floor.

I didn’t even fully understand what a mate meant for them or for me. I was more connected to my human side than my wolf one, but I could still feel the mate bond which felt wild and hot, wrapping around my heart, pulling me toward him.

Lucian Stark.The cursed Alpha prince.The wolf no woman survived.

Nineteen had been chosen for him.

Nineteen were buried before the next full moon.

Now the goddess decided I would be the twentieth.

“Kill her!” the king ordered.

“She is climbing the ranks with black magic!” some dead-brain Beta minister yelled. “And look at her! She is the most ugly being I have ever seen!”

Did I ask you to look at me? Close your eyes if my face offends you.

And if I had he rescources and power to summon a witch, I would have long left the werewolf realm to enter the human realm where atleast I would be accepted.

Women snickered.

“So ugly.”

“So useless.”

“She must be the spawn of some witch!”

I wanted to scream that I hadn’t done any magic. I didn’t even know what was happening. But my throat refused to open. My body shook as they pointed and shouted as if my existence was some crime I never meant to commit. Usually, I just listen from one ear and threw away from the another. Today, the cruel words were hitting my heart like direct arrows. It was paining me... Even more than the whips I endured today.

Then, something startling happened.

Lucian moved and stepped in front of me as if shielding me.

And said, voice like thunder,

“She. Is. Mine.”

The world froze.

No one dared move. Even the king looked like his soul left his body.

The Cursed Alpha Prince never spoke.

He was known for silence.

Yet today, he spoke against the king himself—his uncle Vance, the man who raised him after his parents died because of his curse, the man who protected him all his life.

“Anyone who touches her,” Lucian said, “dies by my hand.”

Wolves bowed their heads. Who would dare challenge him? He was the strongest wolf of the century.

Commander of all armies. The king’s deadliest weapon.

And me? I was his fated mate.

I stood behind him, trembling like a weak slave was suddenly protected by the one everyone feared.

They said I would die soon, like the other nineteen.

Maybe I would.

But did it matter?

Honestly, my life had already been worse than death. If I died...atleast I would die as somebody. As Lucian Stark's mate.

The high priest stepped forward. “Your Highness, you cannot mark her. She is human. You are pure blood. Marking her would be folly. Please, reject her.”

Rejection?

My stomach dropped.

I was a weak human. If he rejected me, I would publically and painfully explode like a cheap firecracker.

What a humiliating way to die.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for it.

But instead, I heard him say softly—

“Would you let me mark you? Would you be my mate?”

My eyes flew open.

Everyone gasped.

And all I could think was—

Wait. What?

I've a choice?

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Author Note: Lalya is an awkward charcer who has a big inferiority complex, so she used her foul mouth and humor to escape reality most of the time. She deflect the pain by acting funny which is honesty sad. Lets see how her relationship with Lucian proceeds. Will Layla let Lucian mark her?