MY MATE

AMARIS

Being a slave in Creekstone was not so bad on some days. 

Days like this, when I'm crouched underneath a table in the darndest kitchen of the Alpha estate, eating stolen bread crusts and drinking leftover ales. 

“Where's that little redhead bitch?” A scary, deep, female voice suddenly rose above the clanks of utensils and the noisy chatters. “Whatchamacallit, Mara or Moron?!”

A laughter rang in the kitchen, cold and mocking and spiteful. 

I held my breath under the table, cheeks full, eyes wide. 

Fuck no. I couldn't let that vile woman see me here, like this. 

I had joined the wagon of slaves on their way to the estate to prepare for the Alpha’s return from a big retreat. For a measly sum, of course. No one cared about slaves enough to pay them rightly for work done. 

And right now, I was supposed to be working. 

I would be toast for the sharks if anyone caught me here, under this table, with stolen bread and drink. 

“Who has seen the stupid cunt?!” The irritation in her voice was at its peak, and I knew the longer I stayed hidden, the worse it got for me. 

I quickly stuffed the rest of the bread in my mouth and swallowed it down with the ale. It felt like a rock going down my tight chest.

“Well, this is not such a bad birthday treat, Amaris,” I smiled through the tiny whisper. “Go girl.”

Looking around cautiously to check that none of the busy kitchen staff noticed my little mischief, I snuck out and swiped the back of my palm across my mouth. 

“I'm here, ma'am!” 

I froze as Mistress Kay turned a thunderous scowl on me. 

“Come here, slug.”

My legs hurried forward before my mind could even process the fear. My gaze dropped to the floor, watching my dirty boots as they scrammed. 

I must have been too slow, because I was suddenly yanked by my shirtfront and slapped very heavily across my cheek. I couldn't feel that side of my face for a good ringing minute, until the hotness settled in, and the pain awakened every nerve in my body. 

I blinked, staring at the heavyset woman, at a complete loss for words. 

“What are you looking at, bitch?!” Her saliva bathed my face, and my toes curled in my boots as I quickly cast my eyes down.

“I'm sorry, ma'am.”

“What do you think you're doing here when there's a shit-ton of work to do out there? Huh?”

“I'm s-sorry,” I repeated in a stammer, “I just had to grab something real—”

She grabbed my shirtfront again and shoved me forward. “Get your scrawny ass out and do some work, stupid slug.”

“Fetch some purified water from the creeks!” Her voice rang behind me as I hurried out the door. “Fill up the drums! You better fucking make sure it's clean. The Alpha drinks that!”

Why would the Alpha drink some water from the creeks? What about the cleaner and safer water running in the estate?

I grabbed some buckets while having the thought that this was nothing but pure cruelty. 

My arms and thighs strained painfully by the time I was on my fifth lap to the creeks and back to the estate. The distance was a good mile, and the buckets were so heavy my wrists numbed out. 

No one offered a helping hand. They spat in my path and shied away from it like I was some stinking animal, laughing at my back and pointing at the loose hems of my skirt packing the dust of the earth. 

By the time I had filled all the drums in the three kitchens in the East, West and North wings, I was gasping for breath and weak to my bones.

“Get back here, you duckling!” I heard the mistress’s voice as I stumbled to go find some quiet place where I could catch my breath.

I paused, threw my head down and heaved a deep sigh.

Did my birthdays always have to suck so bad? I thought this was a pretty good one, seeing as I had a tad decent bite earlier. But this vile woman seemed hell-bent on ruining it.

“Get your ass here this minute!”

Jolting back to reality, I whirled and hurried over to her. 

“Stop right there, you stink.”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.”

“Take this,” she flung a bunch of keys at my face and it hit me squarely in my forehead, “go to the storehouse and get a bag of flour. You better hurry that sluggish scrawny ass along. You're late in five.”

Biting back a groan and massaging my stinging forehead, I hurried away with the keys. I was so tired now, I could pass out any moment. But I couldn't, else my pay would be withheld and all this labour would be in vain. 

I needed money for a decent meal, at least. 

I grabbed the bag of flour and balanced it on an aching neck, dashing out again. Five minutes was all I had. I couldn't waste a second.

As I hurried into the East wing, the lights suddenly went out and I almost tripped in the doorway. 

I barely managed to catch the bag from sliding off my head, bumping into the guards at the entrance. 

One of them slammed his baton into my spine. “Move along, slave bitch.” It was a miracle that I didn't drop the bag again, as sharp pain throbbed through my worn fabric. 

“Sorry,” I muttered, still hurrying along. 

I had turned into the corridor that led to the kitchen, muttering a prayer of gratitude in my mind for making it back in time, so excited. I didn't see the dark silhouette standing a few steps in. Not until I bumped into a hard board. Something big and intimidating. 

My heart stopped as the bag slipped from my head and tumbled to the ground.

The bottom seams split and the flour painted the walls and rose in the air. And I knew it was over. 

Not because of the unbelievable amount of mess that now faced me, but because my heart was suddenly thrashing in my chest. Because my skin was tingling in a strange way. 

Mate.

The voice in my head was weak as hell, but I heard it clear as day. 

The lights suddenly came on then, and my breath caught in my throat. 

He is my mate?

Through the fog in the cramped air between us, the hulk of a man standing there stared at me like I was the ugliest inconvenience of his day. Disdain was painted across his chiseled features. 

But that look did not stop me from reaching for him, like I was under some kind of heavy spell. 

Brown eyes widened as they looked at my hand in disgust. He slapped my hand away before I could touch him. 

“What do you think you're doing?” His voice was gruff and harsh, but they did something to my insides. Was that because we were mates? Did he even know it?

“M-Mate,” I stammered, reaching for him again. “You’re my…mate.”

I couldn't quite believe it myself. That this tall, striking man was my fated mate. How else could I explain this fire that burned my insides?

I was snagged back to reality as big hands shoved me backwards and I landed on my butt. With a heavy thud. 

His eyes burned into my face from above. “Mate?” He scoffed. “Well, that's too bad, because I, Alpha Kieran, reject you stinking, tiny weasel, as my mate.”

Laughters of scorn rang in the air, announcing the presence of an audience. Unknown to me, a small crowd had gathered to witness this stinging degradation and humiliation. 

Oh, fuck me. 

Mated to the Alpha who was rumored to be a brute? 

This was the worst birthday ever.