Claimed By The Alpha Queen

ABEL'S POV

Prince Elon sits on a monstrous bed surrounded by six naked concubines. Their hands caress his chest and back in a seductive manner, but his attention is fully focused on the wailing slave being whipped by the guards.

Deep red marks appear on the slave's bare back as the two guards swing the whips with vigour to impress the werewolf Prince. His sadistic smile broadens with every strike that makes the restrained human slave wail in pain.

Two other slaves already underwent the same severe flogging and died at the spot. Yet the Prince and his concubines doesn't seem to be getting enough of the hideous entertainment. They seem to be at liberty to kill as many of us as they wish.

I am next in the line and I fear that I may not make it out alive. I would be lucky if the guards wear out their strength and fail to swing their whips as hard as they are doing.

"Leave that one. I am more interested in watching that bastard son of a whore have a ruthless thrashing!" Prince Elon orders, pointing a finger at me.

My body quivers as one of the guards unties the slave's hands from the rope attached to the ceiling while the other comes for me.

"Time to pay for your mother's sins," he hisses as he takes hold of the chain around my neck and drags me towards the dangling rope. His partner awaits with a new whip in hand, one that appears more lethal than the former.

The rope is quite close to the massive bed for all it's occupants to have a clear view of their sick entertainment.

"So that's the famous illegitimate prince? He looks a lot more ravishing that what the rumours say," one of the concubines comments as the guards force me to my knees under the rope and attach the restraints around my neck and wrists to it.

"At least his punishment will be captivating to watch," another says, sounding just as deviously ecstatic as the prestigious prince.

"Hit it like a bastard dog," Prince Elon orders in a furious tone.

The guards step back after tightening my restraints and ready their whips.

My jaws clench in anticipation of the inevitable pain, yet the sheer force of the whip knocks the air out of my chest. A wave of excruciating pain spreads across my back and an instinctive yelp escapes my mouth.

The second guard swings his whip with even greater force and the resulting pain becomes impossible to withstand without letting out a raw scream.

I bite down on my lower lip as more strikes continue landing on my bare back, some hard enough to cut through skin. The blows hurt worse when the whip hits the same place twice.

"I thought he was going to cry out more," one of the concubines says in disappointment even as the tired guards continue raining down heavy lashes on every part of my back.

"It's these imbeciles that haven't hit him hard enough!" Prince Elon mutters angrily, pushing aside some of his concubines as he gets off the bed.

He approaches and the guards step back.

"Your punishment would have been most delightful to watch, if only these incompetent idiots didn't wear out so quickly," he says, taking the whip from one of the guards.

I shiver because his massive strength can rip fresh out of bones. He is the most gigantic man in our entire werewolf kingdom thanks to the alpha king's pampering.

"My girls want to hear you holler like a proper slave. And I want to see your back bleed!" he hisses before landing the first powerful strike on my lower back.

The pain makes my vision blur. I feel the wetness of my blood against my skin as it flows out from the cut that the whip made.

The grinning concubines applaud their master, and he lands a dozen more strikes on my already sore back in a ruthless display of immense strength.

My body feels like it has been trampled on by an elephant. Five more strikes would kill me.

"Father has always barred me from actually killing you. Which makes me wonder if you really are not his son," the arrogant Prince confesses in an amused tone. He then bends and whispers in my ear.

"But after I wear King Elowen's crown tomorrow my decisions will final. I will have you shamefully executed to celebrate the beginning of my reign."

I sigh because I was expecting to die tonight. Tomorrow isn't that far either. But the threat of execution isn't something new in my wretched life.

There is however a chance that one of the other Princes will be the crown's heir and they won't be as eager to kill me.

Tomorrow's momentous ceremony will be the greatest there has been in centuries, and the beloved princes needed to be delightfully prepared for it.

Seven days ago the eye of Elowen's crown awakened, a sign that the mighty crown was ready to choose a new heir from Elowen's royal bloodline.

Elowen was an ancient powerful, werewolf king who built an empire so great that it became the envy of all other kingdoms and empires. Under his reign his subjects enjoyed safety and prosperity. But the more his kingdom and wealth grew, the more envious those closest to him became. Soon they could not control their jealousy and plotted to end his life.

Upon his death, his great powers moved to his crown. But none of his traitors could wear it, as Elowen's crown had developed a mind to choose it's own heir.

None of the members of Elowen's royal family was deserving the crown's powers, so the eye of the crown slept for many years. And a prophecy arose that it would awake after three centuries to grant it's powers to a new heir, but only from Elowen's bloodline.

Prince Elon, Prince Edmar, Prince Callum and PrinceTedmond are the youngest descendants of Elowen there is. One of them will be granted the crown's unraveled power, to rule over all neighbouring kingdoms and far lands, as their lord and emperor.

Hundreds of Royals and rich men will be gathered in the palace grand hall tomorrow to see which of the embellished werewolf princes shall become the emperor, even though none of my father's adorned children deserves such power.

Yes, I may be a human but I was not born a slave. My dead mother was once King Roderick's beloved wife, and I was their first born son.

I was a cherished young Prince, until the day that King Roderick realised that he could gain more influence if he married women of royal blood from the neighboring kingdoms.

My mother was a commoner. Her marriage to him had brought the kingdom no more influence than it already had. But because of their bond she still did not expect his betrayal.

He could have divorced her. But instead he chose to accuse her of infidelity and banish her without a single possession.

The soldiers that had escorted her to the land of outcasts outside the kingdom later returned with the news that she had lost her mind on the way and attacked them, forcing them to kill her.

King Roderick immediately married three royal women from different werewolf kingdoms. They all bore him healthy sons, the five Princes, whom he adores above all things.

A day after the first was born he declared that since my mother was unfaithful to him he did not believe that I was his legitimate son.

He did not kill me like my mother. Instead he turned me into a slave, to always serve his noble wives and their beloved sons.

Since it was expected that one of the werewolf Princes would be the heir to Elowen's crown, everything they wanted was given to them. Even a slave's death if it pleased them.

Tonight we were to serve as their entertainment. The suffering of human slaves delights the mighty Royals. So those of us that got selected by the palace officials were dragged inside the big palace and punished for the viewing pleasure of the mighty princes.

I had hoped to escape the selection, but Prince Elon had specifically asked for me.

Each Prince has a particular type of slave punishment they like to watch. Elon especially enjoys whipping of human captives and slaves, sometimes to death. It's a gift that the king and the palace grants him every year during his dreaded birthdays.

His brothers are not kind either, because Tedmond, the youngest, enjoys watching slaves being locked in a cage with one of his predator pets. He loves watching them desperately try to evade being eaten for an entire hour before being released. Many are obviously torn apart by the hungry beasts, and that's the part that amuses him most.

Tonight everyone is sending their best tributes to them ahead of tomorrow's ceremony. Not even their father, King Roderick, could risk being on the bad side of the crown's new heir. So he has his own gifts prepared.

"Take the slave back to it's cell," Elon finally orders, tossing the bloody whip aside.

The guards detach my restraints from the rope and I fall flat on the floor. With all the pain that was being inflicted on my back I failed to notice that my legs were growing numb. The guards take hold of the chain around my neck and jerk me up.

I do my best to make my legs work as they drag me out of Prince Elon's opulent chambers.

Outside I am met by screams of other selected slaves coming from the nearby chambers of other princes. It's clear that many will die tonight. And the Princes will be highly pleased by their father's tribute.

I can still feel blood flowing out of the wounds on my back as the guards drag me down the grand staircase.

King Roderick and two of his wives stand in the palace parlour, directing servants on which gifts to take to the Princes immediately.

"Why is this wretch out here already? Has my son not enjoyed himself fully without restraint?" Prince Elon's refined mother asks in a furious tone, causing her husband to turn and look at us.

The guards halt in their steps.

"Did Prince Elon stop the punishment out of mercy?" the alpha king questions, frowning at the sight of me.

"No your majesty. Prince Elon stopped the punishment because he didn't want to upset you by killing it," one of the guards answers.

"Why would his majesty care if a pathetic slave dies? We all know that it is not his son," the second wife questions in a voice laced with bitterness.

"True. It's nothing more than a slave. Whichever of my sons gets chosen by Elowen's crown tomorrow will have my permission to kill it," the king says.

Both of his wives smile.

"You finally made the right decision, dear," his second wife says and proudly pecks his cheek.

I don't know why my father's decisions still break my heart. My mother, his true mate, has been dead for twenty five years and I have been a slave for just as many years. It's clear that he never cared about any of us.

The guards drag me out of the beautiful palace. Outside, pretty carriages filled with most priceless gifts from the rulers of the neighboring kingdoms and rich men of far lands line up on the path leading to the palace. Some of the gifts are too unique and too huge to fit in carriages, like the stunning mysterious creatures on leash.

It's astonishing to see carriages bearing the unmistakable emblem of the great Dragon Kingdom also in the line of carriages delivering precious gifts to the palace. King Draco has never been known to submit to any royal. He rules his kingdom with fearsome magic and his people worship him like a god. Yet he too has sent tributes to appeal the Princes.

The gifts have been arriving throughout the past five days ever since word got out that the eye of Elowen's crown has awakened.

The goal is to show unwavering loyalty and profound admiration to the mighty princes before one of them gains the crown's potent powers and becomes the king above all alpha kings. No meager gifts like slaves or exotic horses have been sent.

I am also sure that kings will be bringing their beautiful daughters in hope that they might catch the eye of the crown's heir. But it is obvious who every one of the Princes would be pleased to marry with or without the crown.

The famous Princess and future alpha queen of Silvermere, Rowena, is said to be an angel living among men. We have heard incredible tales of her beauty and wisdom, but it is the touching stories of her unusual sense of compassion that make me yearn for a chance to see her.

She will be present in tomorrow's ceremony, but slaves are not allowed in the grand Hall. I shouldn't hope to have a glance at her in this life. We are like beings of two different worlds.

The guards drag me towards the dilapidated slave castle set several metres away. I will be locked inside one of it's cells until the new emperor orders my execution. The slave castle is heavily guarded to make sure that no wretched being ever escapes. So for the first time my fate is quite sealed.

The guards toss me inside my cell like a worthless meat sack. I slowly crawl to the bunch of rugs at the corner of the cold cell and lay down.

"Do you think that Prince Elon will really be the heir to the crown?" my fellow human slave, Cassius, asks from the next cell.

"We would all be doomed if that devil becomes the emperor," the slave woman in the cell next to his mutters in an equally fearful voice.

"We are doomed no matter who the crown chooses. All of King Roderick's sons are monsters," I say.

"Except you. You would have been kind," Cassius responds in a sad tone.

I scoff, wanting to avoid the subject. Everyone else believes that I was conceived of my mother's unfaithfulness. They all fell for the lie that King Roderick told to safeguard his reputation. It didn't matter how loyal my good mother was to him and his kingdom.

PRINCESS ROWENA'S POV

The great auditorium of Frostshire is bewitching to look at, a gathering of proud dragon lords and deranged werewolf royals in all their glory.

Everyone is sited according to their status. The most powerful Royals grace the front, with each column assigned to a separate kingdom.

King Roderick and his three wives are at the forefront, and with them is King Draco of the Dragon Kingdom. Behind them are the five malevolent Princes, dressed in more gold than actual fabric.

There is space between them and the Royals from lesser kingdoms. Being the renowned warrior princess and soon to be alpha queen of Silvermere empire I was offered the opportunity to sit at the forefront, but I chose to blend into the crowd and enjoy my freedom before I am forced to marry the monster that will become the overall emperor.

At the powerful crown of Elowen is mounted upon an elevated altar where all eyes are fixed. The blood of it's heir is supposed to turn jewel's red light to pure white, and it will grant him the crown's great powers.

Tied to the crown, are two twine cords that descend into a golden threshold where each of the five Princes must shed their blood and the chosen one shall be the irrefutable king of kings, a mighty emperor and god to all.

I shall be married to whoever the crown chooses, because each of the five Princes had sent marriage proposals earlier and it's my responsibility to ensure the survival of Silvermere Kingdom. I hate the pampered fools. That's why I plan to kill whichever gets chosen by the crown and makes the mistake of marrying me. I will then have the emperor's throne.

I find it hard to believe that king Elowen's crown has found an heir among the loathsome monsters. Their souls are as dark as night. But not even Draco himdelf has the might to rebel against the heir of Elowen's crown. The emperor will be lord and king to all.

Several nobles have brought their daughters as exquisite gifts for the new emperor. The refined princesses will be no more than esteemed concubines, but I guess that is good enough when their owner is a powerful emperor.

It would take a great level of stupidity to be a loyal wife to such a malignant being. They expect that from me and it's going to be fucking difficult.

The atmosphere grows palpable as entertainers leave the stage and the alpha King, Roderick, steps forward to introduce the big moment. The visibly tense king stands at the podium facing his famed sons and the huge audience.

"Today the great crown is going to pick my favourite son to be your mighty emperor," he boasts. His statement causes consternation among his sons, wives and audience, everybody wondering who his favourite son is.

"Let it be written in the history of our kingdoms that I, Alpha King Roderick, will hold celebrations for an entire month to honour my favourite son when he becomes the king of kings. With those few words let the crown reveal to you who my favourite son is," he declares and the entire hall breaks into applause and laughter.

The entire auditorium is as silent as a grave when Prince Elon rises from his seat and begins his graceful walk towards the threshold, beaming with confidence.

I have heard that the gigantic Prince loves watching tethered human slaves being whipped for his enjoyment. He also has dozens of young concubines living in his chambers to appease his strangest sexual desires.

He is selfish lunatic, yet he is the one most expected to be the heir of Elowen's crown.

He assertively picks one of the knives from the platform then proceeds to graciously make a small cut on his palm then squeezes a few drops of his foul blood over the chalice set upon the threshold.

With baited breaths the kings, queens and nobles wait for the crown's light to turn white. But it doesn't!

Flabbergasted, Prince Elon makes a larger than normal cut this time, almost impaling his entire wrist and screaming in the process. But the jewel retains it's red light despite his blood pouring into the chalice like a river.

Enraged he knocks down the chalice. At his back the first wife of King Roderick collapses. But the other two queens together with their sons break into celebration. A weeping Elon is escorted out of the hall by several guards at King Roderick's orders.

I am relieved to see that I won't be marrying the worst of the monsters even though none of the other Princes possesses a valuable character.

Prince Regan's mother pats his shoulder as he rises to make his attempt. "Make me proud, son. Don't let it reject you," she says before urging him forward.

He makes sure to pick the shiniest of daggers and goes for his left hand. His blood does not alter the colour of the crown's light. He taps the chalise several times to ensure that it senses his blood but nothing changes. His legs buckle and he comes down the stairs with his head downcast.

Prince Edgar moves towards the great crown in a hurry. It's evident that he just wants to just get done with it. He doesn't even look disappointed when the crown's light remains the same after pouring his blood. He sighs and returns to his seat.

The mightiest Royals starts to grow anxious as no one had anticipated that any of the younger princes would be the heir to the crown so less gifts were sent to them.

Prince Callum appears to think he got what it takes as he waves enthusiastically to the crowd. He literally jumps up the stairs to get to the threshold but cautiously punctures a very small wound on his palm that he spends a lot of time trying to squeeze a drop of blood out of.

He patiently waits for the jewel to change it's red light until the audience becomes impatient.

"Coward you have been rejected!" they scold. Several guards escort him back to his seat.

Only the last born prince, Tedmond, is left. Just like Prince Elon, Prince Tedmond's hideous character is known to all. But it appears that he will be the emperor and the man whose proposal I must accept to make my father proud and ensure the survival of our northern empire under his reign.

A commotion breaks out among the Royals as Prince Tedmond's mother, the third wife of King Roderick, demands that her son be declared the emperor at once since he is the only candidate left. But the other queens oppose her request, fiercely insisting that Prince Tedmond must face the threshold just like their sons.

Amid shouts of "hail king of kings" Prince Tedmond comes to the threshold seeming confident since he is the only one left. The crowd is ecstatic.

"Now that's my favourite son!" King Roderick shouts as Prince Tedmond picks the last dagger to make a cut on his palm.

Some of the guests order their assistants to go ready more gifts for the new emperor. The trumpeters that were prepared to sound their trumpets as soon as the emperor is unveiled fill their mouths with air.

But Prince Tedmond's blood fails to alter the crown's light. As seconds count the trumpeters run out of air and let go. Prince Tedmond freezes like a statue before the crown.

Gasps of shock fill the spacious room, everyone wondering what went wrong.

The eye of Elowen's crown is still awake, but it didn't choose any of the prestigious Princes as it's heir. Something must be extremely wrong because the crown's heir must come from King Elowen's bloodline.

Royals argue in confusion and shock. Curious stares turn to King Roderick seeking answers but he appears just as dumbfounded as everyone else. In fact his entire body trembles like a leaf in the wind.

"If none of the mighty princes is the crown's heir, then who is?" the lady seated beside me asks in astonishment.

I stare at the powerful crown whose mysterious jewel still indicates that it's heir exists. Yet it rejected all it's possible heirs. Except . . .

I suddenly realize that I may be aware of who the crown's heir is.

Before King Roderick married his three refined queens he had a beautiful human wife who was a commoner. She was accused of infidelity and banished, leaving behind a son who King Roderick immediately disowned, claiming that he was born of his wife's infidelity.

My guess is that the child was a true son of King Roderick and the rightful heir to the throne. And since the great crown of Elowen has rejected the other sons of King Roderick then I have no doubt that the illegitimate prince is it's true heir.

I don't know how King Roderick would react to that fact. Because I heard that he turned the child into a slave.

His family does not deserve the powers of King Elowen's crown. And if the heir has a good heart they do not deserve him either.

Problem is how do I ensure that they can't get him by the time they realise what they are missing?

I discreetly stand from my seat and leave the now chaotic hall. If I can find him before someone else figures out who the mighty crown seeks, then I can ensure that the prideful family will never rule over any other kingdom.

I make my way down the hallways of the majestic palace that is thrice the size of my father's castle.

I stop the first servant I meet and he immediately bows his head as far as it can go.

"At your service, your highness."

"Are you at liberty to take me to the slave quarters?" I question.

"Absolutely, your highness. Follow me," he turns and leads the way down the grand staircase and out of the palace through the back.

"That's the slave castle, m'lady," the servant points at a dilapidated building several metres away. "May I suggest that you send me to get whatever it is you seek?" he offers.

"No. But there are other ways you can help," I say and he eagerly nods.

"Tell me, is the bastard son of King Roderick's banished wife a slave of this palace?" I question.

"Oh yes. Ever since he was a child," the servant answers.

"And who is in charge of the scumbag?" I ask. "I wish to buy him as a gift for my father."

The servant appears surprised, but answers my question nevertheless.

"Um . . . Sir Bowman is in charge of all matters pertaining slaves. He is the one that decides which ones are to be traded, m'lady"

"Then I wish to speak to Sir Bowman, immediately," I state and the servant nods.

"I will go get him," he bows again before hurrying back towards the palace.

The heavily guarded slave castle looks battered and extremely filthy. Only a foolish clown like King Roderick would condemn his own son to living in such revolting conditions. If my plan succeeds he will be greatly rueful.

I will ensure that his prideful family will never gain power over any other kingdom. I am a royal and have zero concern for the unfortunate child he enslaved. That child is however the key to the crown's mighty powers. Which means owning him would give me power over his imperious family and much more.

The servant returns earlier than expected walking behind a plump man in fine clothing.

"It is an honour to be at your service, your highness," he bows his head deeply. "I hear that you are looking for a healthy slave to buy," he adds, his face aglow with excitement.

"That's right. Are you at liberty to sell them to me?" I ask.

"Of course. Tell me the kind of slave you want and my men will select the best for you," the official answers.

"I want the bastard son of King Roderick's banished wife. He will be the best gift for my father," I say.

Both the official and the servant appear astounded. I imagine they had not anticipated anyone to be seeking the illegitimate son when the crown of Elowen is expected to grant it's powers to one of the favoured princes.

"I am afraid that selling that one might not be entirely under my control, your highness. I can however speak to the king on your behalf." the official responds despite his earlier assurances that he was at liberty to sell anyone.

"I am a bit in a hurry. Will his majesty mind if you sell the slave at a stunning amount of a thousand gold coins?" I question.

The official happily smiles. "His majesty would be pleased by my work, your highness."

"Then get me the slave."

ABEL'S POV

Guards appear at the door of my cell earlier than expected. Sir Bowman is behind them, smiling like a ray of sunshine.

I had hoped that the wounds on my back would have time to heal before the crown's heir executes me. I am guessing that Prince Elon is the new emperor, because anyone else would not be seeking to kill me so soon.

The heavy door clicks open and Sir Bowman and his men step inside.

"It is my delight to inform you that you are about to go away for good, slave. We are about to rid this place of your stench," Sir Bowman mocks, halting several steps away.

"I suggest we get someone to clean him up first. Any royal would be sickened by his horrible smell," one of the guards says.

"We don't have time for that. Just give him a shirt to hide the wounds. That will be enough," Sir Bowman states.

I sigh in relief as my back would hurt terribly if it were scrubbed in the name of getting me clean for an undeserved execution. I still cannot believe that killing me is one of the gifts that my father has granted the new emperor. It is his best prove of affection to his favourite son.

One of the guards rushes off then returns with an old shirt. He tosses it on the floor beside me and waits for me to put it on.

I take my time to reach out for the shirt and find the holes for the neck and hands. Why be in a hurry when they are going to cut off my head in front of a massive crowd of Royals?

"Wear it fast! Keeping great royals waiting will earn you unbearable punishment," Sir Bowman warns.

I slip on the shirt as another round of torture is the last thing I want before my death.

The other slaves stare silently from their cells as the guards drag me away. They cannot risk uttering a word as the guards are always happy to punish the slightest show of boldness.

Just like every other slave of this palace I haven't eaten in two days. My body feels so weak that I am struggling to keep up with the guards' pace despite the fact that they are supporting half of my weight.

They drag me down the staircase, then through the wide corridor with lush carpet that leads to the slave trading chamber.

The double doors opens to reveal a spacious and luxurious room with cozy furniture meant for the esteemed rich and powerful slave buyers.

The guards drag me inside, Sir Bowman walking in front of us.

A goddess sits on the big blue couch at the corner of the room, her regal posture and refined beauty making me forget my pain briefly.

She has a shimmering crown on top of her head which means she is a royal. Her cascading rocks of golden hair shimmer like a spun of silk in sunlight. Her luxurious velvet robes are adorned with beads of gold and a ton of other sparkling jewels.

The smell of her perfume is quite enchanting, nothing like the repulsive fragrances that my father's wives wear.

The guards force me to my knees on the lush carpet while Sir Bowman bows his head in front of the young woman in a show of respect.

"Your highness we would have loved to clean him up for you if you weren't in such a hurry to-"

"Is that the illegitimate Prince?" the lady cuts him short, her powerful but mesmerizing voice resonating with authority.

"Yes your highness. This is the bastard son of his majesty's banished wife," Sir Bowman affirms, stepping aside to give the lady an unobstructed view.

I lower my gaze to the floor as I am supposed to. It is an offense to look a werewolf royal in the eye as long you're not of the same status as them.

"I will personally inform the king that the Princess of Silvermere bought the slave as a gift for her father," I hear Sir Bowman say and my heart throbs harder in my chest because of shock.

I am being sold to Princess Rowena?! The soon to be alpha queen of Northern Empire?

She is as breathtakingly beautiful as the stories say. But why is she buying me when I am supposed to be getting executed?

The princess rises from the couch and gracefully strides towards me. My heart pounds harder with every step she takes. I can only watch her feet move since my head is bowed. Yet I am able to find her walk enchanting.

She halts right in front of me and her alluring scents fill my nostrils. Two of her long fingers touch my chin and tilt my head upwards, forcing me to stare up at her face.

She is even more bewitching up close, but her fierce gaze sends a shiver down my spine as she appears to be peering directly into the depths of my soul.

"It's cute for a Queen's bastard son," she remarks before letting go of my chin and turning away.

I thought she was kind, like the stories say, but she just refered to me at an "it", just like all arrogant Royals do. Guess none is truly different.

"Has the slave eaten?" she asks and Sir Bowman appears troubled.

"We fed them two days ago as there has been more significant matters that needed our attention, your highness," he answers in a rueful voice.

"I am not paying so much gold for a weak wrench that may die on the way," the princess states. "At least give him water to drink."

"Yes your highness," Sir Bowman agrees before motioning at one of his men to get the water.

The guard rushes off, then returns few minutes later with a glass of water. I cannot hold the glass with the restraints still binding my wrists. But the guard places the tip of the glass against my lips and my only struggle remains taking as much as he is pouring.

None of them has ever had to directly feed a slave before and the guard makes his annoyance vivid by pouring the water into my mouth with unreasonable impatience.

He steps back after pouring the last drop of water. My thirst is gone, but my hunger remains. It won't be killing me now though.

The Princess nods to one of her two male servants who hands Sir Bowman the payment in a white bag.

"Thank you, your highness," the cruel man says delightfully bowing his head again. "This is now yours," he holds out a key for the princess to take. "It's for the chains around the his neck. It is also the prove that you're his new master," he explains and she takes the key.

"Inform his majesty King Roderick that I was greatly appreciative of this special trade," she says.

"I can assure you that he will be much more delighted, princess," Sir Bowman responds.

She nods and motions at her servants to take me. The guards pull me back up as the servants move forward and takes hold of my arms.

Doors open and they drag me out of the slave castle, the Princess following behind. Several curious stares turn towards us as the servants of my new master pull me towards the imperial carriage a few metres away. The young chaperone and the stately escort appears ready to leave.

The servants halt after we get close to the carriage, waiting for their mistress's orders.

The princess takes hold of the chain around my neck before climbing into the opulent white carriage adorned with gold. I am forced to use my little energy to follow before getting dragged by the neck.

She takes a seat on the comfy seat and I kneel down on the floor next to her as a human slave is supposed to do in front of a royal werewolf.

"Sit," she orders and I allow myself to sit on the same spot. I must admit she is kinder than any other Royal I have met so far.

The chaperone steers away the carriage and I feel relieved that I will be spending more days as a slave instead of in an unmarked grave.