Chapter 4

AVA'S POV

“Get her some clothes and tie her up.” The leader of the group of slave traders said.

I couldn't let them take me away, not back to where I was a wanted murderer.

As soon as they untied the net trap, I immediately sprang up, intent on making a run for it, but I was held down by several slavers who restrained all my struggles.

My hands were tied amidst my struggling and I was made to dangle from a tree. Torches kept roaming all over my body.

Bloody Fuckers!

After the slavers settled a little distance away from where I hung from, one of the slavers brought a pathetic-looking gown, worse than the one I had torn off as part of my escape plan earlier.

His eyes were filled with lust as they ravaged my whole body; his rough hands grabbed my feet, and on instinct, my feet connected to his face, and I heard something snap.

When he raised his head up again, blood was dripping from his nose. Seeing the blood, I felt a bit satisfied, but this slaver wasn't at all.

“You bitch, I will teach you a lesson!” He sneered at me, picking up a tree branch to hit me, but someone stopped him.

“The order was to wear her a dress, not mess her skin. I don't care about how you take your revenge, so long as there's not a single mark on her skin. A clearer skin equals good money,” The man said, staring up at me.

The slaver who was supposed to dress me up glared at me with fury and malice unhidden in his gaze. Then, lowering his head, he muttered some words under his breath.

Dressing up had never been more difficult, but I was so exhausted from all the running that after a while, I just let them do as they pleased - dress me up. After all, I wasn't too fond of my ass and breasts jiggling all the way.

“Look, this omega seems pretty lively,” one of the slavers sneered, his hand reaching out to touch me.

My eyes snapped open and a glint of ruthlessness flashed in my eyes. With lightning fast reflexes, my leg connected with the slaver's groin.

He cried out in pain as he crumpled to the ground, and the other slavers burst into cruel laughter.

“You have quite a temper, I must say. Looks like we found a good one,” The leader of the slavers commented, as he strode towards me with a rather unsettling grin, holding my gaze steadily. “And you will make a good profit as soon as you're sold.”

He tried to touch my neck but just like the others, I kicked at him but he caught my legs, chuckling, apparently amused at my actions.

“Feisty,” he said with a light smile, his tone filled with mockery. “But that stunt you pulled on them, wouldn't work with me, bitch.” He said, his hands squeezing on my cheeks so hard that it hurt.

“Aaahh,” I winced in pain, when it became unbearable.

Just then, I felt a prick on my arm, and suddenly, I felt instantly drowsy. As I slipped into unconsciousness, I felt the rope on my hands loosening.

Voices overlapped each other in my subconscious state, but one stood out from the rest.

“Bring the slave stamp and imprint it on her hands,” the voice ordered.

Then, I felt someone grabbing one of my hands, and then something cold was pressed against my hand.

The slave stamp!

Anger and bitterness overlapped my state of subconsciousness, and my eyes snapped open. With a fierce reflex, I grabbed the hand of the slaver who was stamping me, and I pulled his wrist down to my teeth, and bit hard.

“Aaaahhhhhh!” The man shouted, pushing my head away and trying to release his hand but I held on tightly.

He grabbed something close to him and lashed it at my face. The pain from the whip made me suck in a sharp breath, and my teeth loosened, releasing their grip. He quickly pulled his hand free, nursing his wounded wrist.

I spat out the blood and flesh from my teeth in extreme disgust, just as another whip struck me, sending me into unconsciousness. As my vision blurred, I caught sight of the other slave traders in the distance.

I don't know how long I was out, but as my consciousness returned in bits and pieces, I heard some rustling in the woods.

Opening my eyes was extremely painful, but I managed to crack them open a bit to survey my environment. When I finally managed to open them, I saw that I was once again bound: my hands and feet were both tied securely.

The slavers weren't paying any attention to me, they were nervously looking around, they had formed a protective circle with me in the middle.

It was clear they were scared of whatever it was that was lurking in the dark.

“Stay alert, these wolves are very strong,” the leader asserted. His stance looked battle ready but up close, I could see he was terrified. And it wasn't just him, they were all terrified.

I felt a shift in the air, and then the rustling sounds returned, only this time, closer and louder than previously.

It was still a struggle to keep my eyes open, so even as I lay weakly on the ground, I could only manage to open them a slit.

Then I heard growling, and my eyes, despite the excruciating pain, snapped wide open, and I winced in pain. My situation couldn't get any worse, could it?

We were surrounded by wolves - now I understood why the slavers were nervous and scared a while ago. I could feel my head aching from the pain; I was drenched in my own sweat.

Just then, I felt a presence, an all too familiar presence, but all efforts to open my eyes and see who it was were almost impossible.

I could make out his physique through my slit gaze: he was tall and well-toned. Under the moonlight, he appeared to be glittering like a light in the night. He was surrounded by a pack of wolves, each one extremely large and strong.

An elite werewolf combat team.

The slavers must have realized it, as one of them peed in his pants while in his battle stance position, extremely terrified.

If my life wasn't also in danger, I reckoned I would've laughed so hard.

“We come in peace, grant us passage and we will leave in peace as well,” the leader of the slavers said, his leg shifting slightly.

The man surveyed the group slightly, his gaze icy cold and his jaws clenched hard.

“Why have you come to my territory?” The man asked calmly, his voice was rich and deep and had a charming quality and his question was directed at the leader of the slavers who had spoken first.

That voice… It was just as familiar as the feeling his presence gave me, and it was one I knew all too well.

Alpha Axel - My ex werewolf lover.