Opening

Once every thousand years the red moon goddess chooses a young wolf, their bloodline and place in the pack didn’t matter, on their first shift, they will know who they are, they will know that they were chosen for greatness. The red wolf will unite the clans, bring together the Alpha’s and restore peace to a dying race, that was the legend.

They were said to be the most beautiful of creatures, and her children will grow to be leaders, the strongest of their race.

But, no one had seen one in almost three thousand years, and thus, the prophecy turned to legend, and the legend turned to myth. The red moon goddess had abandoned the packs, left their putrid wars to rage on without consequence, without an end in sight. The female Alpha’s were extinct, and each pack bore no daughters of strength. None that had come close to taking the place of Alpha female. Yes, the male Alpha’s of each tribe still had children, but each bloodline saw nothing of the red wolf.

Had it been a myth all along, a way to let the children sleep at night in the midst of war?

Had the red moon goddess truly abandoned them?

Annalise was unlike any other that had come before her, she was truly blessed by the moon goddess in all things. But would she be strong enough to overcome the great difficulties that she would face,?

life had a strange way of progressing and she would face decisions that we would have never expected before. 

she was strong and ready to face whatever came her way, she just didn't know it yet. 

A slave. A wolf. A woman.

Annalise was all those things, born into the service of a warlock, just as her parents were before her, her choices never fully her own. The full moon was her only freedom, the only night see could leave her masters land and run free through the woods, though it never lasted, the next morning she would have no choice but to return. If she didn’t, he would find her, he always did; the crimson collar around her neck could track her every movement, find her wherever she went. From this life, there would be no escape.

But one full moon when she ventured too deep into the woods, everything she knew would change, everything she had been taught would turn into bitter lies. Her life would change so fast, it would leave her mind, and her wolf spinning.

An alpha. Destiny. Purpose.

These would be the new words that fuelled her existence, and her life would finally become whole, she would find her place, free herself from the tyrant who had bought her. She would be free.

Or so she thought...

Chapter 1

A slave, that’s what he called me, what they all called me, his property to do with whatever he wished, and by definition he was right. He owned me.

It began with my ancestors something along the lines of my great great great grandfather owing the stupid warlock a favour and not having the means of paying the conventional way. So, he did what anyone would I suppose, he sold his daughter to him, signed a contract that would give my master full control over her and all her children, then her children’s children and so on. Until me.

But I had no intention of continuing that, no way would I have bare children just so he could use them until they either died of old age or he got them killed in his everlasting fight for power. Fuck that. Warlocks were immortal, the cycle would continue forever if I had children, they would be damned to repeat my pain, to suffer.

The full moon was in a few days, I just had to hold on, just a three more days and I would be free for the night, I could go where I want, leave his land for 12 hours. I could be alone. I guess that was a perk of being a wolf, he couldn’t control me when I shifted, couldn’t make me bow with his magic, I was stronger with Nyx, my alter form, she was brave, fearless, and took no ones shit. Me? I was shy and I only spoke when I had no choice, I guess my bravery was beaten out of me a long time ago.

Balthazar was brutal if you pissed him off, he never thought twice about making someone pay, and betrayal? You would beg for death when he was done with you, no one betrayed him, not even other warlocks. They knew he was powerful, knew he could beat them with a flick of his wrist.

I stood in front of the small mirror in the only bathroom I was permitted the use in the basement, a tiny room that held a corner bath, toilet, mirror and sink. That was it. But then again, that’s all I needed. I was pale, my skin barely getting enough sun, I suppose it was hard to tan when you were only permitted to step outside after the moon had risen. My hair was a bright and beautiful red that cascaded in waves down my spine until it reached my bum, my hazel eyes having specks of the same crimson. My cheeks lined in freckles.

I was slim, slimmer than the other slaves, but I never had an appetite, how could I? All I saw day after day was pain and suffering. That’s all I knew. I shook away the thoughts that plagues me, mainly ones of escape, but that was stupid, I had tried escaping more times than I could count, they all ended the same way, me brought back to him, kicking and screaming, until eventually, I was gifted with the studded collar that was round my neck even now.

I couldn’t never take it off, if I tried it would surge an electric current through my body, one so painful I would pass out and he would know instantly. It was the same if I tried to leave the land when it wasn’t a full moon, then, he would track me down, bring me back and I would pay for thinking I could be free of him.

Nyx stirs within me, uncomfortable at the thought of trying to escape, even as fearless and brave as she was, he still scared her. We knew better than anyone why he was capable of.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be trying that again, I don’t like it either when he hurts us.” I whisper low enough that the others down here down hear me, they already think I’m weird, that I don’t belong.

They are right. I don’t.

But it isn’t like I have a choice.

I sigh, I don’t want to go out there, I don’t want to face the day, but even as I ponder it there is a knock on the bathroom door, the soft voice of Margret pouring through. “Annalise? Are you in there dear?”

Forcing my best smile, I walk towards the door and open it, Margret is the oldest wolf here, her hair greying with age, and her eyes soft. “Sorry Margret, did you need something?” I ask sweetly.

She shakes her head, “Not me. Master Balthazar is looking for you.”

My smile drops, fuck what have I done now? I wonder as I nod my response, sidestepping around her, I like Margret, she was the only one who had ever been nice to me after my parents were killed, the only one who helped me through the grief of losing them both. I appreciated that, every time she cleaned the lashes across my back, every time she stitched a fresh wound.

She didn’t deserve to be here.

Though, I suppose no one does. Not really.

I look down at the grey knee length cotton dress, making sure that it’s neat, that I look presentable, the long sleeves reaching just past my knuckles and the simple material masking the slight curves I had. The basement was massive, though I suppose it had to be, especially with fifty of us living down here, their was a small kitchen area with two cookers and four fridges and three chest freezers. We weren’t allowed to cook upstairs. Nor eat with our master.

The rest of the space except for the six bathrooms were coated in small cot-like beds, small and thin mattresses the only comfort we were allowed. I turn my attention towards the stairs, ignoring the others as they prepared for another day, chattering away trying to forget what would happen once their left the small safety of the slaves basement.

I took a long breath, trying to calm my erratic heart as it pounded against my rib cage, quickly tying my hair back into a simple bun. But panic still consumed me, and Nyx shifted nervously, this was one of the times I wish she could speak, that she could give me some advice. But she was a wolf after all, she couldn’t speak, but I could.

Yet, I knew her every emotion, and she did mine, that at least, was some comfort.

Folding my hands neatly in front of me, I walk up the twenty-seven steps to the first floor, gently knocking on the door to let the guards on the other side know I am there. I hear the lock click, and without looking at those who unlocked it, I bow  my head; the punishment for wandering eyes in more severe than you might think.

Master Balthazar’s mansion was huge, it had five floors, the top one dedicated to his paid staff and the slave enforcers. On the ground floor he had three lounges, a kitchen, a dining room, a games room that I had never been in, only catching glimpses of it when the guards entered and exited. Oh, and a hall with tiled floors that he used when he threw parties. It was early morning, the sun hadn’t been up long so I’m guessing he would be in the dining room with his coffee.

The mansion was coated with guards, you couldn’t turn a corner without seeing one, and none of them were permitted to speak to me, nor I them. If I looked at them, it was five lashes, if I spoke it was 10. My master didn’t like me talking to anyone but him, in fact, even the slaves avoided me. Called me his favourite behind my back.

I chuckled internally at that, I wouldn’t say I was his favourite, I had tried to escape more times than I could count; hearing stories of human cities where I could live on my own, work where I wanted, where the man who owned me wouldn’t find me. But I never managed to get far enough away from him to see them, one foot out of the woods and I would be caught within minutes.

He used what he called portals, disappearing and reappearing wherever he wanted, how could I escape that? It’s simple, I couldn’t.

I stopped outside the door to Balthazar’s private dining room, my head hanging low as I stared at the grey carpet, waiting for the guards the announce my presence.

The guard to my left knocked, but the one to my right spoke, his tone raspy and stern. “Sire, thirteen is here to see you.”

That’s me, thirteen. The guards didn’t know our names, we were numbers, creatures that they needn’t worry themselves with. The guards were human, all of them. But one of masters spells surrounded them, and no wolf within these lands could question that, no one could hurt them.

I heard a cup slam against a wooden table, forcing myself not to wince when I heard the anger in Balthazar’s voice. “Send her in.” He ordered.

Oh fuck. I had done something to piss him off, but what? For three whole weeks I had kept my head down, not spoken to anyone but Margaret and I had done everything asked of me. I searched my mind, looking for a mistake so I could prepare myself, though nothing came to mind. I took a shallow breath, and walked into to the room when the guard opened the door, my head low and hands neatly in front of me, the collar around my neck an uncomfortable reminder of his power over me.

I move slowly, walking around the table and dropping to my knees, folding myself towards the floor with my hands at either side of my body; my forehead pressed against the soft carpet. Then, I wait, you do not speak to master Balthazar unless he tells you do, and you definitely do not look at him.

Minutes pass, my heart thumping loudly in my ears, my form slowly beginning to tremble as Nyx grows in frustration within my mind. Why isn’t he saying anything? I have the sudden urge to look up, to see why he was so silent, but I knew that would be a mistake. I wouldn’t definitely be punished for looking at him.

I dig my fingers into the carpet, letting out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding when he sighed audibly, the sound of his chair back filling the room.

“Look at me.” He snaps, his voice line ice.

I do so immediately, moving to sit on my knees, my hands clasped on my legs as I turn my gaze to meet his, trying to look docile and compliant.

He was a tall man, much taller than me, his mousy brown hair a contrast to my wavy neon shade, his perfectly straight as it just passes his shoulders. His cold blue eyes, holding a hatred for my kind, one that I still couldn’t understand. He wore a black shirt, the top two buttons undone, to reveal his golden skin, his dark ripped jeans covering the lip of his brown boots.

He watched me a moment before picking up his coffee and resting it on the chair arm, his eyes travelling down my body, making me shift uncomfortably. “As you know, your nineteenth birthday is fast approaching.” He began, and my breath stutters, oh god no; please don’t say it! I scream internally. “I expect you will find a mate soon.”

I remained mute, unsure if that was meant as a question or command, but even if it was a command, he can’t force me to chose a mate, that is something that my wolf and I decide. The one thing he cannot take from me. Yet, I knew exactly what he meant, he wants me to have children, to give him more slaves.

“Annalise.” He grows, “I can see defiance in your eyes, and I will not tolerate it. It is your job to give me what I require.”

I scowl at that, my jaw tightening as I snap it shut. Don’t speak, you know why will happen if you do. I remind myself, lowering my eyes back to the carpet in hopes he will see it as obedience. He doesn’t.