Chapter 11

[ 1,057 words ]

Lucien Volkov:

The murderer’s sister was lying on the floor, not even fighting back. And for no reason, I could feel my heart sinking.

Maybe because her brother was the one who deserved to be there.

“Maybe because she is our mate and you can’t stand seeing her in pain,” Zorro said inside my head. He wanted to leap at our mother and tear her apart for touching that slave, but I controlled him.

Our mother had just lost the child she loved most, and now she wanted the slave to suffer for it.

“You marked her!” She marched towards me, her face twisted with rage, “How dare you mark her!” She held my collar.

I calmly caught her shoulders as she tried to shove me, “I had to,” I said lazily, “Otherwise she would have run.”

She stared at me as if I had lost my mind. The girl was sprawled on the floor, not moving anymore.

“Is she breathing? Is she alive?” My Lycan poked me.

Aliya rushed forward, “Have you completely lost your senses, brother?” she demanded, “She was supposed to be here as a slave, not as our…” Her voice died abruptly as she realized what that really meant, “Good, Goddess,” her eyes widened as she turned to our mother.

“Queen… she’s their queen,” Zorro supplied helpfully inside my head, but I ignored him.

The room had gone silent, and everyone was staring at me. They must be expecting some kind of explanation, but they weren’t getting one.

For the fuck’s sake… I was the king, and I did what I believed was necessary.

My mother took a step back as she regarded me with her teary eyes, “Tonight… we were planning to offer her to a warrior.”

My eyes snapped up to her face, “What?”

She pointed towards the slave, “Her body doesn’t belong to her anymore, right? Remember what you said yesterday, Lucien? She belongs to me !” She was holding back her tears as she moved a few steps back.

My gaze drifted to the girl whose mouth’s corner was stained with blood. She was staring at me silently with those big hazel eyes.

One side of her face was swollen. A dark bruise was already forming beneath her eye. Blood had dried along her chin and neck, disappearing beneath the torn collar of her uniform

Something dark shifted inside my chest. Zorro’s growl echoed through my head, “The queen can’t offer her to anyone. How dare she! She is ours!”

I slowly walked towards my mother and then stooped in front of her.

“I gave you the girl to be your slave,” I said, looking into her eyes, “you don’t get to give her body to anyone.”

“Lucien…. I …”

I raised my hand to make her stop, trying to suppress my alpha aura that was coming out in waves, “You won’t offer any woman to men, mother!”

Shock washed over her face, “You are defending a slave? A girl… whose brother killed my Anika?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, “What’s going on? First it was your beast and now…”

I didn’t need to explain anything to her. I turned my attention toward Helena, “Take the slave to my chambers. And send a healer.”

A stunned silence was followed by my command. Aliya looked horrified, and my mother looked betrayed.

I glanced towards the girl one last time. There were bruises on her body, and being wolfless, she was not being healed.

My gaze returned to my mother, whose face had turned pale, “Mother. Volkovs do not beat half-dead women.”

“Clean this mess!” I ordered coldly while turning away. I didn’t want to stay here anymore.

“Lucien!” My mother called after me. I could sense confusion in her voice, but I didn’t look back.

Because if I did, I would have to explain myself. And I had no explanation.

Not one that made sense… even to me.

Arabella:

I had already gained consciousness when they took me to a bedroom. As soon as my tired and battered body hit the mattress, I wanted to close my eyes and go into deep sleep.

It had been ages since I last slept peacefully.

Omegas in my pack had better sleeping hours than me.

The healer checked me thoroughly, and Helena stood there with a tight face that was unreadable.

I wasn’t aware why the king sent me here. Whenever I was sick, my pack never bothered to let me recover.

The healer prescribed a few medicines and then injected something into my arm.

Wolfsbane! It had to be the wolfsbane.

Why did they want wolfsbane in my system? The Blackthorn pack had been doing it for years, and now it didn’t affect my body that easily.

When he was done, I looked at the old man’s face and pointed towards the injection in his hand, “It should be two milliliters.”

“Excuse me?” He watched me from above his glasses.

“I said inject two milliliters. Whenever they gave me only one, it didn’t work.”

The healer was staring at me like I had grown an extra head, “Y…you… have been given wolfsbane before?”

I nodded with a smile and then closed my eyes.

Maybe… just maybe I might get some extra sleep. Once I recover, I can rejoin my duties as their slave.

Right now, I wanted to enjoy this soft bed in the king’s chambers.

“You… you were given wolfsbane?” Helena, who was still there, asked me in a whisper. I nodded without opening my eyes.

Helena might be my immediate boss, but I was there on the king’s order. I didn’t want to waste this chance.

Nobody would dare drag me out of the king’s chambers to scrub floors or tend to the garden while I was recovering.

For the first time in my entire life, my body wasn’t aching from endless work. As darkness began to pull me, vaguely I heard Helena and the healer whispering to each other.

“Her family had been giving her wolfsbane?” Helena sounded disturbed, “I’m not sure she is telling the truth.”

“I know. That’s not normal,” The healer whispered back, “Or she must be lying.”

I wanted to tell them that it was normal for me. But I was already too tired. Their voices faded away as I snuggled deeper into the blankets.

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