Chapter 3 (Marlon) – The Mate

"What is your name, dirtball?" Marlon asked her.

Marlon could feel his wolf tugging at him. A feeling in his chest he couldn't shake. The little slave on the ground looked incredibly thin and naked. She had run straight into Marlon's chest, and he typically would have found her to be appalling. She had a strange scent, and her hair was black and mangled.

His eyes found hers and for a moment he couldn't bring himself to look away. Her eyes were green with a tint of golden-brown and shaped like a chestnut. He could feel his wolf-self pulling him towards her, though he maintained his stance. She seemed to be nothing but a mere child; no older than 17 and yet she was affecting his wolf in only a way a mate would.

"Deonna..." she spoke in a raspy tone, and it almost looked as if it pained her to speak.

"I am the master of the Roessler estate," Marlon introduced. "You will address me as such. Stand to your feet," he ordered.

With hesitation, she managed to pull herself off the ground and to her feet. She winced at the very movements of her body.

Great. They sent me a broken slave.

Dark-furred wolves were known to be unclean, uneducated, and uninteresting creatures. He'd be damned if he allowed his sons to involve themselves in any sexual activities with this slave. Keeping slaves for sexual activities was more known for commoners; at least, it was when they were allowed, slaves. But as noblemen, it was frowned upon.

Pulling his eyes from Deonna, he addressed his sons.

"Alex... Bob..." Marlon's voice was low. "Come to my study in 15 minutes." As if he was trying to shoo away a fly he adds. "Put her in the garden and don't let her into the castle."

"Yes, father!" They both said in unison.

...

Marlon waited in his study for his sons.

He was disgusted at his sons' audacity in trying to have sex with a black-furred slave. Dirtballs. The lowest of the low. Those types of slaves were nothing but dirty creatures and having sex with one would do nothing but pollute the noble line.

"We have spoken about this in the past. Not to touch the dirtball slaves," Marlon began, eyeing his sons. Both their identical faces stared back in dismay. Marlon tried to keep his voice even, but anger was leaking through. "With other nobles out to take my ranking, we can't afford a reason for them to do so."

He grimaced at the thought.

"We are sorry, father," Alex spoke for both.

Looking over at Bob, Marlon spoke directly to him. "And you... your tutor says you are failing several languages. What kind of example will you lead if you can't pass your languages? You think your dumbass can be a leader if you can't even pass something as simple as Latin?"

Bob's eyes drifted down to the ground as his father continued. "You need to study harder if you want to be any kind of heir in this family."

"Yes, sir," Bob said softly as Alex let out an outburst of laughs.

"You both disgust me," Marlon barked, silencing Alex's laughter.

Marlon began rummaging through his desk without another word until he came across a couple of arm-cufflinks. Both cufflinks had small golden designs that Marlon knew to be their family symbol. He also knew that with his sons wearing these cufflinks, they wouldn't be able to turn into their werewolf forms until they are removed.

Usually, the manor workers, such as the butler, the maids, the landscaper, etc., would wear the cufflinks. Marlon would be damned if any of his help were able to turn into their wolf selves.

Only Marlon would be able to remove these cufflinks. He found it to be the perfect punishment for their wrongdoings. Showing them what it's like to be imprisoned in their human forms; maybe they will gain more respect for their heritage.

Alex's eyes widened as the cufflinks were revealed to them. They've had them on a few times, and the restraint nearly drove them mad. They grew weak and tired from not being able to transform. Werewolves need to transform to keep up their strength; if they don't, then they become weak like slaves and eventually rot away.

"Tonight's the full moon," Alex huffed as his father approached him with a cufflink.

"Maybe this will teach you both respect," Marlon hissed at them as he locked the cufflinks around their wrist. "Now, get out of my face," he ordered them.

Without saying anything else, they both left.

As Marlon sat with his thoughts, he gazed out his bay window and into the gardens. In the distance, he could see the faint lighting of the slave shack that Deonna was held inside. Most of the maids that worked around the gardens were already heading to their courters for the night.

He knew it would be easy to sneak into the shack to see her; his wolf was tugging at him and begging him to follow through with that plan. He wasn't even sure what he would say or do once he get there. But his wolf knew he wanted to see her.

He couldn't waste much more time; he pushed through his study doors and walked towards the main foyer of the manor. Thankfully, the halls were quiet, and the likelihood of anyone spotting him was slim. Not that it mattered that much anyway; he could just tell them some excuse as to why he needed to see the slave.

He pressed his hands on the main doors when a familiar presence appeared in the foyer. He turned to see one of his newest maids, Petra, standing by the kitchen door.

Marlon had to admit, that she was oddly attractive. Her skin was fair, and her hair was an auburn red that went down to her shoulders. Though she typically kept it back in a ponytail. She had a small waistline, but it was equipped with a large set of breasts and a busty butt.

Her pink lips crept up into a soft smile as she batted her long lashes in his direction.

"I prepared your meal, sir," she said, her tone laced with seduction.

He stared around her for a few moments, trying to come up with an excuse to eat later. But the growling of his stomach revealed that he was hungry. She heard the light growls as well and her face lit up as her smile widened; she chuckled and stepped aside to make room for him to enter the kitchen.

Marlon always noticed that Petra came across as a flirt and would often touch him seductively whenever he was on the premises. Despite her being oddly arousing, he would never have sex with his workers. Just like having sex with a slave, it would pollute the Roessler name.

Petra left his food on the counter, along with a glass of freshly produced milk.

"Enjoy your food. I'll see you soon," she whispered as she exited the kitchen. Leaving him standing there weirdly turned on.

Marlon brushed the thought of the maid out of his head; however, Deonna began invading his mind once again. He was going to go and see her, but he thought it was probably better that he didn't. Petra interrupting his motion to do just that was probably a sign and he needed to listen to it.

Then again, his wolf felt extremely disappointed that he didn't follow through. The silver haze of its aura was fading, and a wave of sadness washed over him. The way his wolf reacted to her as if she was his mate, brought him unease the more he thought about it.

She couldn't possibly be his mate; his wolf must have been wrong.

As he ate his food and drank his milk, his body began feeling hot. His breathing became raspy, and he could feel his features practically glowing. He thought strongly about Deonna's naked body and how it felt when she ran into him. His fingers touched her should blade gently before she fell to the ground. The softness of her skin against his invaded his memories. Her dark hair fell around her narrow features and covered her breasts.

He licked his lips as he thought about her thin body pressed against his and her supple breasts in his hands. He took another bite of his food and sipped more of his milk, closing his eyes as the silvery aura of his wolf began illuminating his skin.

It was reaching out to her. Part of him wanted to join her at the slave shack in the gardens and have his way with her. He felt his erection begging to be released through his pants.

He opened his eyes rapidly as he realized he was losing himself.

What was happening to me?