Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

~~ A NEW BEGINNING~~

“She looks beautiful. She will be perfect to serve the Grand King and his family,” a voice said. It was Madam Estelle, a middle-aged woman in charge of the slaves and kitchen in the Northern Alpha Palace.

“Are you sure she would be good at the job, Madam Est? I heard she is just new—barely a month in here,” another woman argued.

Akira stood there, ignoring them both. Whatever choices they made for her, she would have to accept if she wanted to survive. It had been one week since she jumped into the water and took her life back from Prince Dominus, she'd clawed her way to the shores after using her skills to stay in the water for so long only to be taken as a rogue crossing over into Northern pack territory.

Maybe I’m destined to die, she thought to herself. 

Nothing ever goes well for me. Barely twenty-four hours after she drowned herself and swam to the other side, the wolves in the Northern pack arrested her and dragged her into this place—somewhere very similar to where she was before. Or maybe this place was better; at least she was beginning to make friends, and nobody had been forcefully abusing her every night.

That was a win—every little win was a win for Akira. Since the seven days they dragged her into the Northern pack slave house, she had done all kinds of menial jobs she never dreamed of doing—from sweeping and mopping to assisting in cooking and washing both the nobles’ and warriors’ clothes. She didn’t know where she was; she barely spoke except for flashes of smiles to the other female slaves. The older women here were not just hostile but also shameless to the core.

“Whatever,” Madam Estelle scoffed. “We will teach her right now how to serve the Grand Alpha and his family. We need all hands on deck, Lyra. Prince Dominus is coming back home today.”

Lyra, Madam Estelle’s assistant, looked taken aback by the news. She leaned in, her face lighting up into a wide grin. “Are you sure of what you’re saying? It’s been ten years since he came back!”

Madam Estelle chuckled. “Come on, Lyra. Trust me. You think I would come to you with wrong info?”

“Of course not,” Lyra said, too excited to disagree, even if she didn’t really like Madam Estelle.

“Come to think of it, Lyra, in those ten years he’s been away, he is now the most ranked knight in all four werewolf kingdoms. The Grand King sent him to conquer, and that’s what he did. Look how he wiped out the entire Eastern bloodline,” Madam Estelle explained in detail, and Lyra listened intently.

She didn’t really know much about the packs he had conquered. Apparently, she wasn’t interested in his accolades; she was more interested in him.

However, once Akira heard “Eastern pack,” she narrowed her gaze at the two ladies, her senses on high alert. Her curiosity was piqued.

“Did you say Eastern pack?” She asked moving closer to the women, Madam Estelle face marred into a deep frown as she tilted her head over to the slave who dared to eavesdrop on her conversation. But Akira continued. “ What happened in the east? What did you say happened in the East?” 

“Shut up!” Madam Estelle glared at Akira.” How dare you try to listen! “ 

But before they continued, Madam Estelle called one of the oldest slaves—Beth.

“You!” she called to Akira in a harsh tone, her look condescending. Her eyes swept over her for a few seconds before she continued, “Beth, take her and change her clothes. She’s going to be serving the Grand Alpha King and his family. Teach her everything she needs to know.”

With that, Akira followed Beth, who was muttering under her breath about how lucky she was to be serving the Grand Alpha and his family less than two weeks after coming into this place. For every slave, serving the Grand Alpha was seen as an achievement, but for Akira, that wasn't the case.

“Pity that a beaut like Klux—(Akira’s brother) —was burnt to ash. He could have rivaled Dominus to become the most ranked knight in the four kingdoms before Prince Dominus cut his life short,” Lyra hissed, and Madam Estelle glanced at her.

Madam Estelle didn’t feel pity for anyone; she was fiercely loyal to the Northern pack.

“What time is Prince Dominus going to arrive?” Lyra asked, concern etched across her features.

“They should be back by now. I’m sure he is back. Why do you ask?”

Lyra’s lips twitched as she licked her bottom lip, thinking of the many things she had always wanted to do with Prince Dominus before he left. Madam Estelle narrowed her eyes at Lyra when she fell silent, immediately sensing what she was thinking about.

The old lady hissed and walked off, with Lyra following her, the two laughing and talking as they took off.

Meanwhile, Akira was done dressing in a new robe—something better than the transparent silk she had been wearing before. They stood in a straight line, waiting for Madam Estelle and Lyra to finish serving the meal and drinks so they could take it to the Grand Alpha.

Rage surged through Akira as she stood in line, waiting for an unknown fate. She had the opportunity to ask Beth about the preparations, but she was far from interested. She barely knew what pack she was in, and she didn’t care to know or ask.

Maybe this is my fate. I wish I had died with them.

“Move!” a slave from her back pushed her violently, and she surged forward, reaching her turn to carry a tray of drinks.

A few feet from the Northern slave quarters stood the Iron wolves Hall. The men were gathered there, laughing, drinking, and bragging, just as men do. Their voices were loud and rough as they continued.

Meanwhile, Akira just followed the other ladies. She didn’t know where she was going until they drew closer and she began to hear loud talk and laughter.

“Oh, here they come, the fine little birds with soft hands,” one of the men shouted happily—not because of the drinks, but because of the ladies.

Akira’s shoulders stiffened as her eyes narrowed; they looked oddly familiar.

They were five warriors seated in a circle of stone benches around a spit-roasted boar. All muscle and smug grins, wolf marks tattooed along their throats. Their armor was discarded beside them, replaced by sleeveless shirts that clung to their sweat-slicked chests.

“Hey—look at this one.” One of them, taller than the rest, dark-haired with a scar across his lips, stood up and walked toward Akira. She kept her head up, as they’d been taught, and said nothing, though she wished she could kill him right then.

“Such tiny hands,” he murmured, pretending to study her fingers before gripping her wrist and twisting it just enough to jolt her. “How can that hand hold my cock if I ask you to?”

Laughter rippled through the crowd, and Akira swallowed. She didn’t speak; she couldn’t. Her throat had closed up.

“Oh, but look how quiet she is,” the scar-lipped one continued, walking a slow circle around her. “Pretty, soft thing. Think we should test if her hand can go around my cock?”

More laughter—this time even louder—and Akira wondered what was funny. She stared at the tray, teeth grinding, and took a deep breath.

Next came a slap on the ass, and she jolted forward.

A sharp sting exploded across her ass, hard and humiliating. Her tray wobbled, but she caught it just in time. Allowing the tray to fall and the drinks to shatter would probably be worse than death for any slave.

He walked around and grabbed her ass, squeezing it in his palms once more. “So soft. I will tell Madam Estelle I want this one for the night.”

Akira’s face burned with shame, her fists curling around the tray’s edges. She couldn’t look at him—or at the others now watching her, enjoying her discomfort. She swallowed her rage like poison. Because this was survival. This was the cost of breathing when you had no name, no rights, no home.

Finally, after they let her go, she quickly went back and carried another tray of drinks to the Grand Hall, where Grand King Kaelen and his family were having dinner.

Akira’s heart raced as she approached the Grand Hall, the weight of the tray pressing against her palms. Madam Estelle walked closely behind her, her presence a constant reminder for the girls to act accordingly.

As they neared the entrance, Akira stole a glance at the lavish decorations. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling.

“Remember your place,” Madam Estelle whispered sharply behind her back, her breath hot against Akira’s ear. “Serve with grace. Do not embarrass me.”

Nodding slightly, Akira walked through the doors, her eyes darting to the figures in the chairs. But as she took another step, her gaze locked with that of Prince Dominus. Her breath hitched in her throat, and her eyes blinked rapidly in disbelief.

No, no, it can’t be him. It can’t be him.

Does that mean I’m in the Northern pack?