Chapter 2; Execution At The Gallows

Chapter 2: The Alpha's Possession

The sound of the broom swooshing against the marble floor was the only thing Zephyr could hear as she remained lost in thought. She stood alone in the dark hallway, lit by torches placed on either side of the walls.

She was a slave, her status lower than that of the maids in the castle, yet she had been framed for something she didn’t do. Why? Who would do such a thing? And to make matters worse, she had encountered the Alpha. He had told her she would become his property.

An Omega wasn’t allowed to breathe the same air as the Alpha, let alone a maid or a slave. A slave doing such deserved to be cast into hell. She hadn’t known, though. She hadn’t known he was the Alpha. If she had, she would have begged for death. After the guards had called him Alpha, she had run away, unaware of the instructions he had given the guards concerning her case. Why had the Alpha helped her? She was of no use to him. She didn’t even deserve to clean the shoes he wore.

Lost in thought, she had unknowingly stopped sweeping and was now staring into space. Zephyr snapped back to reality when she saw one of the maids approaching: Sheila. Her back stiffened, and she immediately resumed her sweeping.

Sheila stood in front of her, staring with disgust. Zephyr stopped what she was doing and bowed deeply.

"Why did you stop sweeping? Didn’t I tell you this hallway should be spotless before dawn?" Sheila asked harshly, her face scornful.

This was their favorite pastime—belittling the slaves in the castle. Most of the slaves had been sent to the homes of the elites to work as maids. Zephyr had been praying to be transferred as well, to escape the harsh treatment from the maids.

Zephyr kept her head bent low, knowing that speaking out would result in harsh slaps and beatings.

"Shall I teach you the proper way to mop the floors?" Sheila asked with a wicked grin.

Zephyr’s heart raced in fear and panic, remembering how Sheila had once dunked her head into soapy water and used her hair to clean the floor. Instinctively, Zephyr took a step back. Sheila’s eyes flashed with irritation, and she lunged at Zephyr, grabbing her hair and pulling it harshly, enjoying Zephyr’s cries of pain.

"Sheila!" They heard a woman call. They turned to see the head maid approaching, and Sheila released Zephyr’s hair.

"That’s enough. Go trim the flowers in the garden," the head maid said calmly.

"Okay, Mother." Sheila threw Zephyr a hateful glare before walking away. The head maid was Sheila’s mother, so she received special treatment.

Zephyr didn’t need anyone to tell her—it was obviously Sheila who had framed her. It had to be her. The head maid walked toward her, and Zephyr lowered her head in fear. The head maid terrified her. Though she appeared calm, she was an extremely devious person. Yet this same woman had saved her; she had unlocked her jail cell.

"Thank you," Zephyr said softly.

The head maid, who had never heard the slave speak, was momentarily shocked. But her face quickly hardened, and she studied Zephyr’s ragged appearance, confusion crossing her features.

"What are you thanking me for? Speak, slave!" Her voice rose, and Zephyr flinched.

Zephyr became confused by the hostility. She had seen this woman the night before. The head maid had unlocked her cell and told her to run as fast as she could. Now, standing before her, the woman seemed like one who lacked kindness or compassion. Zephyr’s fear grew.

"You… you… saved me from..." Zephyr stuttered, fear making her hands clench the fabric of her ragged dress. "I…"

"Courtney," a voice interrupted.

Both women looked up, and Zephyr swallowed hard when she saw the intimidating butler standing there. His gray hair was combed back, and his bright red eyes glared at them. His skin was pale—so pale and thin that he almost looked like a corpse.

"What are you doing here while the maids are slacking?" he asked grimly. Zephyr quickly bowed her head, her body trembling.

"Pardon me, I’ll be there shortly, Sire," Courtney replied, bowing deeply.

"Gather all the maids and slaves to the courtyard," the butler ordered, his eyes fixed on Zephyr. Courtney nodded, and the butler walked away.

"You heard him—get to the courtyard immediately!" Courtney yelled, and Zephyr hurriedly sprinted away.

Courtney glared at the lowly slave, wondering what Zephyr had wanted to say. It was a mystery why she hadn’t been executed the previous day for stealing from an elite. Courtney clicked her tongue in disgust; she had been hoping to witness the servant’s death.

Zephyr’s feet felt cold as they pressed against the marble floor. Was her name still not cleared? Was that why they were all being summoned to the courtyard? To watch her execution? Her steps faltered when she saw the maids making their way through the back door of the castle. Reluctantly, Zephyr joined them, goosebumps rising on her skin. She was a trembling mess by the time she arrived at the courtyard and quickly stood with the other slaves.

When Alpha Damon arrived, everyone bowed deeply. None of them dared lift their heads until he had seated himself on the majestic chair in front of the gallows.

Zephyr’s hands were clammy, and her eyes were red from tears. No amount of preparation could have prepared her for her execution.

"Bring her forward!" the head guard yelled.

To Zephyr’s surprise, it wasn’t her, but another maid who was being dragged out by the guards. Her neck, hands, and feet were bound in shackles. Zephyr watched the young girl scream for mercy, but the guards paid no attention as they yanked her by the chains, leading her toward the gallows.

"Have mercy on me, please!" the girl cried out, but no one made any move to help her.

Zephyr watched Alpha Damon rise from his chair. His posture, his footsteps—everything about him was calculated. His face was cold and expressionless, and Zephyr’s heart raced as she watched him approach the girl.

"Alpha… Alpha Da..." the girl stammered, unable to finish her plea before Damon drew his sword and severed her head in one swift motion.

Zephyr’s body went pale as she watched the girl’s head roll from her lifeless body. The girl’s blood now smeared across Damon’s handsome face.

Zephyr continued to watch him from the crowd, her expression one of horror. Her blood ran cold when his dark, predatory eyes on her, and a sinister smirk spread across his lips—as if telling her she was next.