The Lycan King's Little Mate

NAIA

I grunt aloud at the ridiculous request my brother—also the Alpha—just made.

"What was that?" Lorein, his mate, asks, stepping forward to slap me. I close my eyes, preparing for the impact, but it never comes.

"I said no bruises. She needs to be well and ready for the King." Luke stops, his tone final.

What King? Is he going to sell me?

I swallow, my voice cracking with disbelief. "What King?" It's not fear in my voice—at least, not yet. But I’d rather be dead than show even an ounce of fear to my asshole of a brother or his idiotic mate.

"You know, you really make it hard not to slap you, sissy," Luke sneers, and I roll my eyes, utterly disgusted.

"Just go and clean the damn toilets in the assembly room," Lorein orders, dismissing me with a wave of her hand.

I turn and head to the assembly room, clutching the toothbrush she gave me to clean the toilet.

I don’t even get paid for this.

As I scrub away in the grimy space, the sound of voices entering the room catches my attention. I briefly consider eavesdropping, but what's the point? It's late, and I need to sleep if I’m going to survive another round of hellish torment in this pack.

I return to my cleaning, but freeze when I hear my name in their conversation.

"Don't worry, my King. She will be ready for you by midnight, I'll make sure of it. And I’ll make sure she behaves according to your demands. She’s been a little... unhinged lately," Luke says.

They exit, their footsteps echoing in the hall.

I gasp, my heart thundering in my chest. Unhinged?! Me?!

"I'm the most sane person on this entire damned ground! Seriously, Kyra—do you see me as unhinged?" I ask my wolf, my voice rising with frustration.

"Okay, so they literally told you they’re going to sell you to a 'King,' and the only thing you care about is your brother calling you unhinged?" Kyra replies, her voice cool but sharp. "I hate to break it to you, but it seems you’re going to be a sex slave if we don’t run."

I stare blankly at the floor, the weight of her words sinking in. "Fine, fine, we’ll run. Thanks for being the voice of reason," I mutter.

With shaky hands, I rush to my small room. I can’t stay here—not after what I just overheard. If Luke and Lorein are serious about selling me, I don’t have much time.

I grab a worn backpack from the corner and start throwing things inside—anything that might help me survive on the run. Some old clothes, a few pieces of bread I managed to steal earlier, a half-empty water bottle. I pause as I fold my favorite sweater. I’d never thought I'd be leaving in the middle of the night, but here I am, packing as if my life depends on it.

It does.

I have to go. I can’t stay here.

I take one last look at the room, the place I've called home even though it’s never felt like one. No more.

With a deep breath, I sling the backpack over my shoulder. The weight of it is a small comfort, but I know it’s nothing compared to the burden of what lies ahead.

I move swiftly down the hall, trying to be as quiet as possible. The sound of footsteps in the distance makes my heart race. I can't get caught—if they find me, it's over.

I won't let them sell me. I’ll fight with everything I have.

And with that thought, I slip into the night, ready to run.