His Slave

(Zorya)

“Pretty!” He rumbled in a thick voice; his grip tightened on my chin. His scent was luxurious and smoky—the lust in his wandering eyes put me at unease.

“From today onwards, you are my slave. Take her to the Sunken Pit,” he quietly said and straightened. His rich, muted plum-shaded coat stretched against his muscled body. Bold and luxurious, making him stand out. He pulled it down, smoothing it out.

Sunken Pit…I had heard horror stories about this place. Owned by a powerful and rich shifter family, I couldn't remember the name off. Shifters and humans from all over the kingdom and beyond were brought there to fight in the pits. That was the extent of my knowledge.

Why was I being taken there?

Were they going to put me into the pits?

I wouldn't survive two minutes.

The thought made my heart brutally clench. The man behind him in a black mask, who was probably his beta, stepped forward and grabbed my arm, pulling me to my feet.

With his bare hands, he clanked open the chains, letting them fall on the stage floor.

Did he free me or just bind me to an even grim fate?

“Don't think about running,” he sternly said, his jaw set in stone.

Where would I even run from this den of barbarians?

He led me down from the stage, and I saw the imposing figures of others in the audience who had been betting. Everyone wore masks to hide their true identities.

A few of them held the girls they had purchased, unable to hide their lewd smiles. Their awe-filled gazes lingered on the man who had purchased me; some even bowed in respect and then on me. Even with masks, a few seemed to recognise him.

Lust and debauchery clung to their eyes as they stared at my figure. The predatory smiles had me shivering.

My desperate eyes tried to find Samana, but I failed. She seemed to have been taken away, and I could only send a prayer for her to be safe and not meet a tragic fate.

The man made me sit in the back of a car and rode in front with the driver. I didn't see the Alpha; he must be riding in another car.

The journey from this grey slavery building to the Sunken Pit took two hours. The scenery dramatically changed, from dry barren lands to mountainous terrain.

Never had I believed that I would end up in this dangerous world of shifters, captured and sold as a slave. I had a few skills; maybe I could utilise them and survive.

The car silently rolled into a tunnel, dug into the base of a tall mountain, and darkness fell over. Something whirred, and the car descended deeper into the tunnel through some kind of moving shaft.

Once it stopped moving, the Beta got down and mercilessly dragged me out of the car, almost twisting my ankle.

The brute didn't realise that I was human and didn't possess shifter abilities.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked as he dragged me along through the dark corridors where sentries in black uniforms roamed.

The fear of this place, the fear of the unknown, gripped me.

“Keep your mouth shut. The less you speak, the better it will be for you,” he sternly said, his mouth forming a thin line of dissatisfaction.

His large hand tightened its grip. One wrong move and he could easily wring my neck.

He shoved me into a room with three women wearing brown uniforms. The sigil of a coiled serpent in a ring shape, head poised downward, with a broken shackle in its jaws. Three blood droplets were falling from the shackle into an open pit below.

Was this the sigil of their pack or this place?

“Beta Hadis!” The three women quickly bowed.

“Prepare her for the Alpha. You have two hours,” he ordered them in a clipped tone. Turning back, his long blue coat flicked around his ankles as he walked out.

Dread fell over me, and my knees shook so violently that I almost fell to the ground.

The three women turned towards me. Black collars had been placed around their necks. Horrors and fears reflected in their eyes, mingled with sympathy.

Were they slaves?

“Come, girl.” The older among them softly took my hand and guided me towards the bathroom.

“What's going to happen to me?” I asked in a shaky voice, holding back tears.

They exchanged terrified glances.

“You belong to Alpha Caliath Duskil now. Try to please him, and you might survive,” she answered in a frightened voice, her eyes betraying her.

My throat went dry.

What was he going to do to me?

Resisting them was no point; they would be punished for not carrying out their duties. Instead, I would have to speak to this alpha person. Maybe he would be reasonable.

They scrubbed me clean, every inch of me until my skin was raw pink. I was wrapped in another white silk gown scented with flowering perfume; I hated the smell. No undergarments or shoes. Like snatching away someone's dignity. Half of my breasts pooled out of this plunging gown, making me extremely self-aware and embarrassed.

Hadis came to fetch me. “Follow me,” he said. It was difficult to keep pace with his long strides.

The narrow corridors were scarcely lit. A haunting vibe this place carried, as if the sighs of innocence echoed in this place. It was the lack of warmth, both physical and metaphorical, that had me shivering.

Hadis took me to a room and knocked on the lime green door with the same sigil embossed on it as I had seen on the chests of those slave women.

“Enter!” The heavy and cold voice of Caliath sent a shiver running through me.

Hadis opened the door and gestured for me to enter, refusing to follow me.

With a gulp, I entered the dark room; the door closed shut behind me with an ominous click.

Faint red light partially illuminated the room, giving it a sinister feel.

I remained rooted to my place, my arms wrapping around me as if to shield me from what was to come.

“Come closer,” his icy command made my knees go weak.

My eyes focused, and I found him leaning on the recliner. Legs spread, head tilted, watching me with those predatory eyes. A yellow slit had appeared in the centre of his pupils, giving him a frightening look. He wore no mask. His face was like one of those runway models belonging to an overly expensive brand.

A glass of whisky casually dangled from the fingertips of his right hand. His left hand held something shiny.

I remained frozen in my place, fear gripping my limbs.

“Now!” His steely order had me take a few diminutive steps forward, until I stood right in front of him.

His eyes hungrily wavered over my body, making me wish to disappear.

“Kneel!” He placed the glass on the table and directed me with his eyes.

My terrified eyes finally figured out what he was holding in his left hand.

It was a silver collar. A slave collar, and he intended to put it on me.