Chapter 5

Ronika

I stood beside the bed, glaring at the set of maid's uniform that was neatly laid out. How did Quinlan expect me to wear such a disgusting outfit? Still wrapped in my towel after the shower, I sat down, thinking about how I ended up in such a situation when, days ago, I was a happy alpha's daughter. Just then, there was a knock on the door, and even before I answered, it was pushed open.

An unfamiliar middle-aged man walked as if he owned the room, sending an icy glare my way. "Why are you not dressed?" he asked in a hostile way.

"Excuse me?" I held the towel around me tighter, feeling violated in every possible way.

"You have a minute to get dressed up and step out," he ordered, giving me a once-over.

"Who the fuck are you, and who gave you permission to violate my privacy? Do you not have any manners, stepping inside a woman's room without knocking?" I raised my voice, sizing him up and down.

He burst into a loud, sarcastic laugh, making me press my lips together. Then he spoke, his voice laced with disgust,"the sooner you realise you are just a servant in this place, the better for you. Here, you must follow the rules; otherwise, you will be punished. You must go to the alpha's quarters right now to start your duties right away."

"No, I will not!" I shouted, tapping my bare foot on the area rug. It was all surreal to me; every single part of my life at that moment seemed to be spiralling out of control. First it was an attack on my former pack, the death of my mother, and then the bombshell about the treaty. Now I was minutes away from being dragged across the hallways to the monster's room to carry out what they termed as duties.

"It's an order from the alpha," the man stated, with his arms crossed over his upper abdomen. Just then, a girl roughly my age walked in carrying cleaning supplies. I looked at her from head to toe, then at my uniform. Hers was very decent, but mine, on the other hand, was a complete insult to my decency.

It contained a white black dress that was short enough to reach mid-thigh with lacy white helms. A white apron that I assumed went around my waist, with white and black accessories around her wrists. There were also a pair of white knee-high silky stockings, a thong, and a pair of black heels on the foot of the bed.

"Do you really expect me to wear that?" My hands were on either side of my waist, and my eyebrows were raised.

"You've wasted 10 minutes of my time; now either you do as I say or I make you." The grumpy man's voice was rough; his nose was crooked, and his lips were thin, the upper one disappearing under his moustache.

He had deep-set eyes that seemed to have nothing in them except fury. His forehead seemed to have permanent creases, leading to a bald head. He looked around the age of my father, but he was leaner while my father was muscular. He could be the Beta or a high-ranking wolf given his stature and the authority in his voice.

I was pulled out of my trance when I was roughly pulled off the bed. Missing my footing, I landed on the rug-covered wooden floor with a thud. My forearms moved right in front of my body, reducing the impact, making the towel loosen under my armpits.

"And they say you are an alpha's daughter," he mocked, his boots coming into my line of vision. I could feel a slight burning sensation on my left wrist, but giving it a once-over, I knew it was just bruised, nothing serious.

"Weakling," he spat, making me cringe on the floor. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying anything. But something inside of me couldn't allow me to be pushed around.

"It is rude to push women," I muttered, making him let out a light laugh laced with nothing but ridicule.

"And you call yourself a woman? Our women in this pack know how to fight and defend themselves, unlike you. So you, you are beneath everyone in this pack," his words hit home, making my chest burn, not with anger but with a feeling that had my resolve almost breaking.

"Now get the fuck up and move," he sneered.

"Make me," I challenged, making the girl gasp. My pride and my rights wouldn't let me submit to him. I gathered myself from the floor, careful not to reveal my nude body under the towel. Head held high, I looked at him square in the face. His burning gaze speared into my own as he breathed heavily. He didn't like my rebellious attitude, given his twitching lips.

"Listen here, brat." He dragged the word, his upper lip curling upward.

"You might have been the princess back in your pack, but this." He stepped impossibly closer, his musky scent wafting through my nostrils.

"This is a different territory, and like I said, here you are just a servant." I didn't know whether it was the way he said it or the intensity of his voice as he said it. Either way, his words crumbled the tiny defence that I had built up. It reminded me why I was there.

He was right. I was a weakling; even my own father gave me up even before I was born. It was a reminder, exploding before my eyes in an instant. It ate my brain up; it jumbled my thoughts, but one stood out. I was in a foreign pack with no mother, no father, and zero friends. I was all alone. The way I saw it, it was either giving up or fighting with everything I had to set myself free.

"Aria." He gave the girl a firm nod while he pushed me out of my bedroom door, still in my towel.

"This way," she muttered, keeping her gaze on the floor as she walked fast along the hallway. It was pretty quiet, save for our footsteps. I followed her to the very end of the hallway, feeling my eyes sting. She stood in front of a large black door with intricate patterns.

When she knocked, we stood there for a few minutes before she finally turned the knob. She didn't wait for me to even glance at the inside; she pulled me inside. "Start with making the bed. I will be back shortly with your uniform," she instructed, then left.

"It is rude to not follow simple instructions." My lips curled downward at the sound of Quinlan's voice. I didn't turn to look at him entirely, but I could see his form through my peripheral vision. I didn't utter a word, praying inside for Aria to get back soon. I didn't like being alone with him—with a vile man full of atrocities. My heart became ladened with a dark emotion whenever he was near. His presence reminded me of my mother's scream and of her lifeless eyes as she lay in her own pool of blood.

I sighed, biting my lips to stop myself from talking. I was no longer in my pack, and the cleaning supplies Aria had left on the floor were a clear reminder that my father had sealed my own fate.

"Are you deaf or just fucking stupid? Get to work," he ordered in a relaxed way, not even giving a damn that I was in a towel.

"I won't do any cleaning shit! I am not your fucking servant!" No matter how hard I tried to keep my mouth shut, I just couldn't accept such treatment.

"But you are my servant," he simply stated, walking closer to where I stood shakily. He stood behind me, the proximity making my breathing spike.

"No," I muttered. My voice came out as an undertone, while my eyes remained glued to the paintings. One had a black wolf howling, and the moon was shining brightly, illuminating the fur and making it appear shiny.

"See, Ronika, it wasn't a choice," he spoke, his fingers grazing the side of my neck. I swallowed saliva almost painfully, squeezing my eyes when he finally clasped the back of my neck. I could feel his hot breath fanning the back of my ear.

"But it's your choice to either do as instructed by Beta James willingly or to have him force you with a whip." So the man was a beta. Then his hand was gone, and so was the heat that had since enveloped me when he stood behind me. He walked past me, and that is when I noticed his upper body was bare; only a towel covered the rest of his body.

"Why not just kill me?" The words left my mouth as a lone tear slipped past the confines of my eye. Days ago, I had been in my pack, in my home, living my life without any worries. Oh, how that changed within a fraction of a second! He stopped, turning to look at me, but my eyes didn't meet his.

"Only cowards accept death as their fate," he simply answered before disappearing behind an open door, different from the one he had used to get inside.

I didn't move a muscle; nothing seemed to matter at that point. Perhaps whipping was better than submitting to my mother's murderer. No matter the situation, my father raised me on the training grounds. He had made sure I was a woman of endurance, no matter what the world threw at me.

I refused to serve; the fucking treaty could burn in hell for all I cared. I wasn't the one who signed the agreement, and I wouldn't pay for my father's sin.

"That is not a wise decision." I rolled my eyes when he emerged, this time dressed in black slacks and a navy blue shirt. His hair was still wet atop his head, but it was the intense gaze that his eyes directed at me that had my confidence faltering.

"Who said I was making a wise one?" I sassed, turning to make a beeline for the door. Before I could even turn the knob, a large, venous arm blocked my way, his hand covering the knob. His breath caressed my neck yet again, but his words left me with a gasp.

"Get on the bed and lie on your stomach; I have had enough of your disrespect," he ordered, making me squeeze my eyebrows.

"What?" I asked, my eyes widening a fraction.

He tipped his head, then spoke, "actions have consequences, Ronika, and you are my property to do with as I wish. You just earned yourself ten spanks; now strip."