1. Rejection

My knees are bleeding all over the freshly cleaned floor. They sting as the cheap soap enters the wounds. I daren’t make a sound. My hands are scrubbed raw.

“Hurry UP!” Beta Nasir cracks the whip by his side

“Guests arrive for Alpha Ahriman’s engagement announcement tomorrow - DON’T let us down! This place needs to be cleaner than spotless!”

I snort into my bucket, trying to hide my grin. This guy is as horrible with language as he is everything else. How can anything be cleaner than spotless? Idiot.

Finally the floors are deemed acceptable. Nasir commands us to head back to our barracks.

Calling our slave quarters a ‘barracks’ is like gilding a turd. They’re a shack. Cold, no glass in the window holes, simply thin wooden roofs on top of thinner wooden walls. At least it’s not raining today.

Brian catches my eye as us slaves troop out. I wink at him and his shoulders visibly relax. He needs to guard himself better - if anyone knew how he takes pity on us slaves, how he sometimes brings us food - well. I doubt he’d be happily mated with a pup on the way for much longer.

The wink has been my signal to Brian ever since he saved me from a beating. I refused to let one of the other soldiers stick his cock in my mouth. I got two black eyes and lost a few more teeth for my trouble. Brian found his mate in the slave quarters… I think we both did well out of that interaction.

Life as a slave in the Red Star pack is hard… probably not any harder than anywhere else, but I wouldn’t know. I like to hope there’s somewhere out there that isn’t as shit. But this is all I’ve ever known.

I flop onto my ‘mattress’ on the bottom of the three high bunk beds. ‘Mattress’ is generous. It’s straw. Loosely bound together with other straw… at least it was until it was used the first night by whoever had this bed before me. Now it’s just pathetic. And thin. Everything here is just so thin.

I’m starting to go the same way: thin, tangled, lifeless hair. I’ve got more gum than teeth and I hear the soldiers say my thin body isn’t worth anything. I scoff. I dream of finding a life that’s more than the constant monotony of scrubbing floors and fending off beatings.

I’ll never get that life. Not when I’m around twenty and look around eighty. No one wants a mate with no ass and no tits. So I’m told. Lately I’ve felt less and less like staying. I’ve got nothing to live for and not much left to give. I sigh as I feel sleep enveloping me.

Most nights my sleep is dreamless. Or so I suppose…but the last few weeks I dream of being free. The first few nights, I interpreted this as being free in the Moon Goddess’ realm. I assumed I was dead.

Then I started having dreams where I was strong and healthy. As I run I hear a soothing but strong, almost ethereal voice that seems to come from all directions; “Don’t give up”, “It’s not your time”, “Change is near”,

Could it be the moon goddess herself? But why would she bother with me?

The clanging of bells wakes me the following morning. I’m always surprised - I wonder how many more mornings I’ll wake on? The voice promises change, but I’m running on empty. I’ve got no time to wait. I reassure myself that tomorrow we’ll be out of sight and out of mind - lest our presence ruin the aesthetics of this very special event.

We trudge to the packhouse and my jaw drops in despair as I take in the ballroom they want us to scrub. The floor is white marble and requires a softer soap and brush… this makes it harder to get the desired shine and naturally takes longer too. My knees groan of their own accord.

I’m suddenly rendered immobile by an almost suffocating presence entering the room. This definitely isn't’ Beta Nasir. It’s oppressive, but I try to lift my head so I can twitch my eyes in that direction to see who it is. I have to do it without stopping and without anyone noticing though.

Through my lashes I see Alpha Ahriman striding toward me angrily. Oh fuck. I feel panic rising over me; Alpha Ahriman is powerful enough to snap my neck with one hand. And unhinged enough to do it.

Strong fingers wrap around my throat and my breath hitches. I’m lifted by my neck into the air and brought toward Ahriman, our noses almost touching. His wolf swirls in his eyes and his nostrils flare.

This is it. I’m going to die, never mind that stupid disembodied voice. I should know better than to hope for anything.

“Don’t you feel it?!” Who is he talking to? Me? Feel what? An urgent need not to piss my pants and humiliate myself even further?

“Answer your Alpha, Nomia! Or I’ll cut out your tongue!” Nasir shouts across the room at me.

“I’m sorry Alpha Ahriman” I gasp “I don’t feel anything!”

“Do you have a wolf?” he snarls at me

Of course I don’t - you deliberately keep your slaves wolfless to prevent uprisings you ignorant, arrogant -

His hand squeezes my throat and I frantically shake my head, kicking my legs slowly as my oxygen depletes.

My sense of relief is momentary as Alpha Ahriman releases my throat… except he throws me to the ground and a large crack echoes around the hall on impact. I barely manage to stifle a scream as the pain shoots through my now broken wrist.

“I cannot accept such a weak mate!” Alpha Ahriman sneers “I will proceed with my engagement to Jasmine tomorrow. Nasir - what is this stupid bitch’s name?!”

“She goes by Nomia, Alpha, I know nothing more than that - her mother is dead; father unknown.”

This only serves to further enrage Alpha Ahriman. His whole body seems to expand and tremble with the effort of keeping his anger inside.

“I can’t kill her. Not if I want the Moon Goddess to bless me. She doesn’t feel the bond so the rejection won’t work…” his voice gets sharper and sharper as he lists his problems with me. I gulp.

“Sell her” he suddenly demands. A raging silence falls across the room. All eyes on me. I’m definitely about to die.

“Take her to Manfred”

“Yes Alpha” Nasir nods once, sharply. He grabs my broken wrist and drags me from the room. His eyes are glazed - a sure sign that he’s mind-linking. This is confirmed as we reach the stables and I see a cart is being readied. The horses are almost harnessed; various staff running around to get everything ready.

Beta Nasir stops, lets go of my arm; dropping me to the ground. I land on my broken wrist and a short scream escapes me. Beta Nasir whips round, “You’re to be quiet, you’ve caused enough commotion for a day.” I bite on my cheek and the taste of blood fills my mouth. But at least I’m quiet, sparing me a beating or whipping.

Nasir grabs me “Rope and shackles now!” I’m so terrified I momentarily wonder how he expects me to fetch him anything when he’s holding me so tightly. Until I realise he’s not talking to me, he’s requesting them for me. I shudder.

Nasir shackles my ankles, ties my arms behind my back ensuring to snag extra at my broken wrist. He sits, cracks the whip in the air and shouts “Walk”, the horses set the cart into motion.

Silent tears leave rivulets on my face. I can’t wipe them away as my hands are behind my back. This is the first time I’ll ever be leaving Red Star territory. I guess the disembodied voice in my dreams was right.

Except instead of the slow death of a slave, now I’m convinced I’ll be dying way sooner than that. The jostling of the cart sends me to sleep. No voices speak to me this time.