Chapter 4 04

ISBERLT.

"Get up, Slave!"

He hollers, and echoes of laughter, and satisfied howls fill the room in my state of humiliation.

Biting down on my lower lip, I scowl at the wolf that stands before me— the string of cusses at the tip of my tongue, just lingering for me to release them.

Shaking the thought of cussing at this man off my head, I get up, brushing my butt as I begin to walk away; only to be yanked back by the same man again.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going, whore? I'm not done with you!"

He tugs me back hard, and I jerk my hand away from his grip, glaring at him with shimmering eyes.

"You will not touch me, do you understand me?"

I tell him as calmly as I can, and the room quiets down— everyone concentrated on the drama that's managed to come up once again.

This is the drill.

It's been five long excruciating days since I've been here, and just like Rio tells me every single time he comes over to my room which is now the dungeon— I have been trying to stay low. Stay out of the crisis, and not cause any scenes. Do what they ask of me, and then retire to my reformatory where I think of ways to prevail till I stumble into sleep on the cold solidified levelled ground that's my bed.

But no matter how much I try to stay out of trouble— it just doesn't stay away from me, and somehow I end up getting myself into it; not thoroughly my fault though.

Like now.

One of the slave jobs I have to do every single fucking day is clean after the packhouse once they are done obliterating it, and trust me when I say it's a very wearying job. Especially when you've never been into cleaning.

Regardless, I try my best to do it, knowing I've got no other choice, which is why I was packing the plates, and the cups while they laugh around, and play like it's a special extravaganza. Until this bastard of a man that stands before me at the moment grabbed my ass, and all hell went loose.

Another thing I have to endure in this hell place is having to wear very short dresses that disclose most of my skin, and probably my inner thighs anytime I bend down to grab something— flashing myself to the ravenous lust-filled men that wouldn't stop looking at my way every second of the day.

Including this one, who thinks it's reasonable to touch a lady without her approval just because she belongs to a lower status than you— scratch that— just because she's being forced to pay for crimes that she's yet to figure out.

Sick mother-fucking bastard.

"Did you just talk back at me, Slave?"

He closes the distance between us, his eyes warning as he eyes me, and bitterness peaks in my throat from how huge he looks looming over me, but that won't stop me from standing my footing. I will never bend to their selfish sexual wills. Never.

"Who the fuck do you think you are to talk back at me, whore?"

He raises his voice, and I scoff, finally losing my patience. "How many times did you fuck me?"

I resort, and tiny murmurs fill the room, along with a few chuckles. The wrath that covers his face after the surprising reaction from the crowd terrifies me, but the way the words slips through my mouth boldly says another thing, "You do not call a woman you've never fucked, neither caught fucking another man a whore. Is it that your insignificant brain failed to discern this, or you just decided to neglect it as a result of your ignorance?"

Silence descends in the air along with a few gasps as I slowly watch the man before me turn into something else. Something that's far from man. Something I should be afraid of.

A wolf.

With sharpened fangs and brightened eyes; he grabs hold of my neck, pressing his ridiculously long nails to the skin where neither my collar nor my flimsy dress covers.

"You want me to show you how much of a whore you are?" He snarls, moving forward, and dragging me backwards with him— his nails digging deeper into my skin as the seconds' pass, drawing blood from me, and forcing a wince out of me as I fight to get out of his hold, but the truth is, and remains that I can't— because I can't compete against a wolf's strength when I have none.

"You think you've got quite the mouth, right? Say anything you want, and get away with it? Like you got away with insulting the Alpha King?"

Roars of anger erupt from the crowd at that point, and he sneers at me, seeming pleased at the fact that he's got them behind him, and can do anything the fuck he wants with me. And I know he can.

"Well, I am not the fucking Alpha King, and I do not understand why he let you go after disrespecting him that much, but I won't take that from you. You are nothing but a measly slave here, and you should know your place, whore!"

He stretches the last word—probably to get me angry, and it works as I stop struggling against him, meeting him dead in his eyes with daring ones of mine.

This is a time where I need my wolf powers. It may be nothing compared to his, but I do know he wouldn't have me gripped like a pathetic little shit if Raelynn—my wolf—were still with me.

But unfortunately, when you push her too hard and reject her too many times despite her struggle to get to you; you end up losing her.

"Please, " I whimper pitifully, begging her to give me anything. Perhaps a little strength just to shove this man away from me, but nothing comes, and the bastard here mistake my plead to her as one to him.

"The whore can beg! The wolf is begging me! What do you think of this, my people?"

He shouts, turning his gaze away from me to strut the hand that isn't blocking the air from my lungs, towards the others in the room, and they laugh along with him.

"I'll never beg you, you sick bastard!"

I snap, and his gaze returns to me; darker and angrier.

With one angry growl, his grip on my neck tightens, and he starts to lift me, before throwing me across the room, and I merely shut my eyes as my back hits against the cold rail.

"By the time I'm done with you, Slave! You will beg for me to kill you. I will make you feel the nastiest of painful pleasure while having you scream my name for the whole pack to hear as I bury my cock inside that little cunt of yours!"

Cheers spew from the crowd, with most of them agreeing to his words, while others just sit, and watch everything unfold.

"I will punish you severely for disrespecting the Alpha King..."

"Yes! Do it!"

"And for having the nerves to talk back at me! Insulting me altogether!"

"Yes!!!"

As I start to rise, he proceeds to stand before me— a smirk etched onto his face— and as he raises his hand to grab hold of me again, a hand comes out of nowhere, stopping his nails inches away from my collar.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"