ValerieHer pack?No way. Samantha was a wolf?She wasn’t like any werewolf I had ever met before. She wasn’t tall and muscular, she wasn’t physically imposing or dangerous-looking. She was…tiny.Samantha laughed at the expression on my face. I must have been making an obvious one.“If you’re wondering, no. I’m not human. I’m a werewolf, just like our Alpha.”“But you don’t…” I didn’t know how to say this without coming across the wrong way. I swallowed. “You don’t look like…”“I look like a human, right?” she asked. “I’m an Omega. We’re much…smaller. I’m sure it’s easy to mistake me for a human, so don’t worry about it.”An Omega. I stifled a gasp. It hadn’t been polite to ask, but I couldn’t help it. I knew the wolf society had a very strict pecking order when it came to their hierarchy. I knew Omegas were at the bottom of that hierarchy, but I had no idea they looked so…human.“I’m guessing you want to know why I’m here,” Samantha said. She wore a warm smile that made me feel a lit
ValerieMy heart ached for Samantha. Even I—as a slave—had been given the opportunity for freedom. The life of a slave was not an easy one, but I had been torn from my family, not banished by them. That was entirely different. Even if Samantha had been given the opportunity, any chance at actually living her life free and in peace would be squelched the moment she approached another wolf.I wanted to ask if she’d ever thought about escaping to the North. But I worried it was another stupid question that would simply put a damper on an already-dark conversation.And anyway, who was I to talk? I wanted freedom so badly, but what were my chances of surviving in the wild, too? I was even more of a target as a human than Samantha was as a rogue. The only difference was that I would be scooped up off the streets and stuck back in a slave shop if anyone spotted me.That sounded even worse than being imprisoned or killed.I felt a grim and uneasy thought sweep over me. Would it even be possib
ValerieI regretted my snooping the moment I had to seat myself in front of Lucas for lunch. I hadn’t meant to spy on him anyway, I was just curious. And then…confused. Why had he kissed a statue?But I couldn’t bring myself to ask, nor could I explain myself. Why had I been watching from the window, anyway? What kind of intention did he think I had?I had done everything I could to avoid him—even asking the servants if I could eat at the other dining room. The servants claimed the other rooms were currently occupied, though I doubted it. Lucas and I were the only ones here, and I had just dined in the other room nights before. I had a feeling they only wanted to make my stay here as excruciating as possible.It was understandable. I didn’t blame them.They had watched their master haul a new servant home, only to find out I would be sitting at their large tables eating their fancy food and bathing in their luxurious tubs and sleeping in the Alpha’s bed.I would probably hate me, too
ValerieI followed Lucas out into the garden, where the air carried the smell of fresh roses and fertile soil. I hadn’t seen a flower in ages—not a real one, at least. Werewolves were not typically fans of flowers, or any plant with an overwhelming smell, really. Their noses were far too sensitive.Occasionally, the aunts would bring in fake flowers for certain sales events, to give the shop a bit of a homier feeling. They said the sight of them would evoke thoughts and feelings from the patrons—thoughts and feelings that would eventually end in a purchase. But it never felt quite the same, and the only thoughts they ever evoked from me were the ones of my mother’s garden. How desperately I wished I was standing in it. Smelling the sweet, floral aroma.But here, the smells circled around us anew with every breeze of air. The sweet, heavy scent of roses wrapped me like a warm blanket. It brought me right back to that lovely garden, and the flowers she used to growing in it when we were
Valerie It wasn’t until a cool breeze swept by, that the spell my memories had on me was broken. I was no longer in the study with Mathilda. Instead, I was awake again, staring into Chelsea’s eyes. “What do you know of Cearysal?” Lucas asked. I had almost forgotten he was there. I flushed a little and took me hand away from the statue. I shouldn’t have touched her. That wasn’t becoming of a slave. “Not very much, Lord Lane,” I admitted. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t interested—just that the tome did not hold much information about the empire. “There isn’t a lot of information out there for us…humans,” I explained. “I know only that the empire collapsed in just half a century. But I don’t know why. No one knows why. And no one knows what happened to the king and the princess.” Lucas smirked, looking somewhat satisfied by my answer. “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “Your history stories seem to be so selective. As if the fine details were plucked out and replaced with fairy tales. The
ValeriePerhaps my fondest thing about this place was the way the sun crested the trees, just outside the window. Soft, rose-tinted light poured into the room, a velvet glaze of pinkish clouds in the sky.I did not often get to see the sunrise, back in the slave shop. We spent most of our time in our living quarters in the basement, where there were no windows to see the outside world.I was lucky to be here. I often forgot just how lucky I was, but this place was beyond expectation for a slave. Even if I was trapped here all my life…would it have been so terrible? So long as I got to see sunrises like this…staying here as a servant seemed like pure bliss compared to the fate of most slaves.But my ultimate goal was freedom. And I could not forget that.Despite how warm the room was, a chill still swept over my skin. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Or maybe it was the anticipation for the day ahead of me. I was not looking forward to going to Baycrest. I was not looking forward to spe
ValerieEventually, the large double-doors opened and Mrs. Manson presented herself. Although she was an unusually grouchy woman, I smiled at her entrance. This morning was certainly different, as it wasn’t only Mrs. Manson entering the room. Two young girls followed nervously behind her. They were new faces—girls I had not seen around the castle. I wondered if they were the new servants that Mrs. Manson was having a hard time training.I supposed that would explain the crooked frown on Mrs. Manson’s face, and the nervous air around the girls.They were like kittens, dumped into a new surrounding for the first time. They looked around curiously, like they’d never seen the innards of the Alpha’s room. Like they feared they might step wrong and knock something to shambles. Mrs. Manson shot them a glare and they ducked their heads down.Then, without a word, Mrs. Manson gestured for the girls to come forward with clothing and supplies. I could tell in the brief time I’d known her that M
ValerieI could not look at Mrs. Manson’s face any longer. My heart panged with memories of my mother, the ghost of her still warm in my heart.It was so painful to have lost a mother. I couldn’t imagine what it was like for a mother to lose her daughter. I wanted to know more about Mrs. Manson. More about the woman she used to be.I opened my mouth to speak, then thought better of it. Mrs. Manson doesn’t like questions.“Say it,” Mrs. Manson ordered.“W-what?” I hesitated. She was not even looking at me in the reflection of the vanity. How could she have known I had a question on my mind?She glanced to me, then back to my hair. “You’ve something to say. Say it.”I swallowed and stared at my own reflection in the mirror. The girls had done a lovely job of fixing me up into a slave fit for a proper aristocrat vampire. I looked young and healthy, but not too pretty. Not too respectable.“Can you tell me about her?” I asked. “How did you lose her?”Mrs. Manson paused, the brush mid-way