Chapter 4 500 coins for a slave

VALERIE

I couldn’t breathe.

I hadn’t expected the Alpha to address me directly. No one addressed slaves directly. We were property and doing so was about the equivalent of speaking to vase or a painting on the wall. We were expensive, but not valuable. We were disposable. We weren’t people, but things.

What had your parents done?

I wished I knew. I wished I could formulate any kind of proper response, but my blood was in my face and my heart was in my throat, and words were not something I could choke out when the Alpha’s eyes bore into me like this. 

I wish I knew what my parents had done. I wish I could absolve myself of the anger and suspicion. I almost wished they were guilty of some heinous crime, so my heart would stop beating with vengeance at the mention of them.

I didn’t know how to answer.

I felt a slap on the back of my chair, and a whoosh of air—like it had been whipped with a twisted rag. “The Alpha asked you a question!” Aunt Rita snipped. The aunts loved to threaten us with the little rags they carried around to dust the shops, but really, they weren’t allowed to lay a hand on us. Even knowing that, I coiled at the thought of what they might do to me if I did not comply.

The Alpha’s calculating eyes slid up to Aunt Rita’s face. “I appreciate your help,” he said, sounding like he didn’t much appreciate it at all, “but please allow me to give the orders.”

Aunt Rita turned a shade of pink and retreated back a step to bow her head and nod. “Yes, my Alpha. I do not mean to interfere.” She rang the rag in her hands. “My concern is only…well, this girl is not the best choice for you. We have better—“

“Is she a virgin?” asked the Alpha.

Aunt Rita opened her mouth, but no words came out. It was as if she couldn’t possibly imagine anyone would want a slave like me—especially the Alpha.

She wasn’t wrong. I was not as pretty in body or face as the others. And I was…flawed.

When Aunt Rita failed to answer, Aunt Louis stepped up. “Yes. She is a virgin.”

The Alpha gave me a steady once-over. “Why hasn’t anyone purchased her yet?”

I tried not to meet his eyes, but I could feel his gaze burning into my skin no matter where I looked. Suddenly, my flesh was on fire. My clothes were too small, too constrictive.

“Her eyes,” Aunt Louis answered flatly.

“Eyes?” asked the Alpha.

“They’re quite peculiar. Different from the other girls. Guests find it…ominous.”

“Ominous?” Aunt Louis’s explanation seemed to only pique the Alpha’s interest more. He suppressed a chuckle and said, “My wolves? Afraid of a little human girl?”

Aunt Rita pressed her lips into a flat line. Then softly, she explained, “Her eyes are considered…a bad omen.”

I had heard mention of my eyes before—how some guests thought them to be hideous and others were intrigued, but afraid of what the color in might mean. Never had I heard they were a bad omen, but I supposed it made sense. Even the aunts were often too afraid to get close to me—like I might strike and bite them on the palm like a cottonmouth.

“Look at me,” the Alpha ordered. “Let me see your eyes.”

I was afraid to. I had kept my gaze on the reflection of the glass, the floorboards—even the lapel of his jacket. But I could not look him in the eyes.

When finally I did force my gaze to his face, I was struck by the beauty of him. I had never seen him so closely before. His face was sure and strong, young and handsome. His hair was short and black, but untidy. It looked mussed, like he had just run a hand through it prior before coming in—something I had not expected from a wolf of such high regard.

His eyes were low and sheening in the light of the chandelier above. A lovely gray color, with a shimmer of blue in the depths. At first, they looked calm and easy—the eyes of a man who knew his power and feared no one. Then, as they stared into mine, they began to widen.

I looked away, afraid that he would fear me like the others. That maybe, he’d think me a monster and have me sentenced to death for this omen the aunts spoke of. But as I turned away, the Alpha cupped my jaw and turned my gaze back to him.

His eyes were heavy—cutting through me like blades. The expression in them was curious and perplexed, like he was looking into a math equation, rather than a set of human eyes. His brows furrowed and his head tilted slightly to the side.

I shivered. The longer he stared at me, the more I felt my clothes stripped away fiber by fiber. I had been comfortable in my rags a moment ago, but now I felt naked under his gaze.

“It is unique,” he commented and turned my head gently to see the mark on my neck. “Did you get this in the war?” he asked. I felt his fingers graze the skin feather-light before I jerked away, frightened by his touch.

“It is alright,” said the Alpha, lowly—as if only I was meant to hear. “I won’t touch you again.” Somehow, even though he frightened me, his comfort settled inside of me like a warm ember.

He let go of me and drew back, waiting for an answer.

I clutched my fingers into a fist to keep from covering the side of my neck and replied, my voice trembling, “It is a birthmark.”

“A birthmark,” the Alpha echoed. “Interesting.” He straightened and clasped his hands behind his back—the proper stature of a wolf who knew war. “I suppose I could use one more servant to help in the castle. What do you think, Ralph?”

I had not noticed the man standing beside him until the wolf was clearing his throat and bowing. “Whatever you see fit, sir.”

“I’ll take her,” said the Alpha.

My heart doubled—or perhaps it stopped. I wasn’t sure anymore.

“What is her price?” he asked.

At first, no one responded. The aunts looked frozen, their mouths ajar, each of them glancing to one another in awe.

I could tell they would have loved to be rid of me. But they feared the repercussions. Giving away such an underwhelming slave to someone like the Alpha…the aunts would never put their reputation at risk like that.

“My Alpha,” stammered Aunt Rita, “I’m afraid she’s too dangerous. She’s the child of criminals—of men who used violence against our kind. Goddess knows what she will do.”

“What is your name?” asked the Alpha, his eyes on Aunt Rita now.

“R-Rita,” she stammered.

“Rita,” replied the Alpha. “I don’t think it would be wise of you to challenge a guests’s decision so vehemently.” The color drained from Aunt Rita’s face. At the mortified look she wore, the Alpha’s lips cracked into a slight smile. It looked like he was biting back another laugh. “I understand you concern,” he said kindly, “but if I can’t handle something like this, who do you think will be able to?”

Aunt Rita let out an exhale—looking a little dizzy as she stepped back and bowed. “Her price is five-hundred coins, my Alpha.”

Five-hundred coin?

Were they joking?

Five-hundred could would have bought most of the girls in this place. The aunts were either very daring or very stupid, taking advantage of the Alpha like this.

The Alpha’s eyes fell back to mine. My heart beat against my ribs like a hammer, eating thump making me more and more lightheaded than the last.

“Five-hundred it is,” said the Alpha. He snapped his fingers and his guard stepped forward with a sack of coins in his hand.