Chapter 3: Knocked around

The woman, whose name I assume is Bella, barks orders for us to strip down and quickly clean off. They give each of us a single bar of soap and a washcloth as we march by and step into the stream of water. I gasp when the ice-cold water runs down my scalp and seeps into my flesh, freezing me to the bone. I quickly lather the soap on my cloth and scrub myself clean and amble out before anyone else.

A man looks me up and down with a look of disgust, stopping at my side as he leans over and touches my pink scar. He gives me a suspicious look but says nothing as he thrust clothes into my hands and gives me a rough push to keep moving. Then he repeats his process with everyone coming out of the showers. Every single slave that proceeds out after me looks empty and robotic. 

They exit, and turn in their soap and washcloth. He inspects their bodies and hands them generic clothing and no towel. I try to slip on the cotton panties and the white linen sports bra, but the water that clings to my skin makes it more of a workout as I stumble from side to side trying to yank the once dry clothes up my wet body. When I finally pull the taupe cotton dress down over my body, I turn and see that they dress all the women the same, while the men dawn a pair of brown linen pants that look crazy itchy and a white t-shirt. 

Bella steps up in front of us and gives us all a grim look before sighing heavily and clasping her hands together. 

“Line up so we can sort you all accordingly.”

The three men to my right are slated for manual labor and two of the women on the other side are being sent to the kitchens. Once everyone except me has a spot, I look at Bella expectantly, but she averts her eyes and clears her throat. 

“If I have assigned you a location, go now and find the manager of the area you are to work.”

Everyone leaves and I stand, alone in front of Bella.

“You follow me.” She grunts and I fall in step behind her, being sure to keep my head down like the rest of the slaves had when they left the room. “You will work in the beta’s house, you poor soul.”

“Poor soul?” I ask quietly, and she shoots me a look over her shoulder. 

“If you want to survive Haley, keep your mouth shut, do what you are told, and never, ever tell her how to dress. The last slave wound up blind for that misstep.”

My eyes widen and I opt to keep my mouth shut immediately as we enter the home. The three-story mansion is fancy but in an understated southern manor way. With antiqued floral wallpaper and gaudy light ornaments that highlight the high vaulted ceilings and cherry wood floors. The place is in sparklingly clean condition and my mouth falls open, taking in the stunning furniture that I’m sure cost more than my pack made in a year.

A hard slap lands on my cheek and my head snaps to the side, my palm flying to my face and cradling it as I fight back the tears that the sting brings. I look at the culprit in horror and reel back when I see Haley rubbing her palm and glowering at me like I stole the last piece of fucking cake. I just gawk at her and force myself to cower. We are here for a reason; I remind myself. So I can’t blow our cover now. 

Haley smirks at me, obviously so proud of the fear she thinks she inspires in me. She puffs out her chest and steps into my personal space. Her dark eyes match my icy blue and I can see the disgust she has for me so damn clearly. 

“First lesson, Slave. Don’t gawk. It makes you look needy and suspicious. How am I supposed to know you won’t try to steal something from me and make for the border?” She shifts her gaze to Bella behind me. “Get her room set up. Then come directly back for the trash. I’ll have her waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs.”

I bite back the need to ask her what her fucking problem is because seriously, people are like this in real life? She brings her eyes back to mine, smiling to herself, and the moment Bella is out of sight, she leans even closer.

“How do you know the slave merchant?” She asks. I reel back in confusion.

“I’m sorry?” She slaps me again, this time harder.

“I will hit you every time you don’t answer my questions. Lowly bitches have to learn their place. I hoped that with such a glowing review from Enzo that maybe you actually might be housebroken. Clearly not.” Her words are so full of venom and anger. I blink at her and open my mouth to speak.

“He is just the slave trader, Miss Haley. No one else to me.”

“Oh really? That's why he said you were pretty?” She raises an accusatory brow. And I stumble for my words.

“I-I…” I take a steadying breath. “I have had problems with men trying to force themselves on me. He assumes it is because others think I am nice to look at.” 

Haley studies me for a second, then takes a step back. I breathe out a sigh of relief and wait for her to speak again, but she doesn’t.

“Do you still need me?” I ask her and cringe the moment t finish the question.

I am a certified idiot, apparently. Instead of a palm, this time I am met with Haley’s fist. Unfortunately for me, she has large rings decorating her knuckles. The force of her hit has me stumbling back into the wall and my eyes dotting with blackness. I suck in air, the smell of blood so strong I can taste it on my lips.

Haley scoffs. “Bella!” She screams, and Bella comes flying down the stairs. When her eyes settle on me, they widen with shock, and then her face goes stoic as she turns to Haley with a tiny bow. 

“Yes Ma’am?”

“Take her to her room and lock her there. No food until dinner tomorrow evening.” And then she disappears. Bella approaches me with gentle eyes and grabs hold of my hand, patting it slightly. 

“Come along dear. Let’s get you squared away.”

I just nod and let her pull me up the stairs in a fog. I don’t recall Bella leaving after she opened the door, and I walked into the small room. In the far corner near the window is my full-sized bed in basic white linen and to my right is a small dresser and two pairs of tennis shoes waiting for me. There is no closet, but I am surprised to see the bathroom. I move my way to it and open the door, seeing a tiny standing shower, a standard toilet, and a small sink with only enough room to house the toothbrush they have provided for me.

My hair is still damp, so I reach for one of my three towels and wrap it around the crown of my head, then turn to look at my bruised and bleeding cheek in the mirror. I wipe the blood away and grimace at my forming black eye, tenderly touching it before hissing and pulling away. I did this to myself. This is the only way to get into this pack and I need to be here. I remind my wolf, who whimpers at our appearance. Then I pad to my bed, deciding to sleep the day away.

My body goes on high alert when my bed dips and I jolt up to find dark eyes looking into mine. I sag in relief when they touch me and the familiar feeling of calm radiates through me from Enzo. His family was always the best at calming my family in situations with high tensions. Enzo was tasked with protecting me and Caleb when he turned seventeen, six months before the attack, which took everyone we both loved.

His hands move to my cheek and I hiss, pulling away. In an instant, the light clicks on and Enzo is rushing to my side with concerned eyes as he scans my face.

“What happened?” he asks, not removing his eyes from my sore cheek. 

“It’s not a big deal.”

His cheeks grow red, his telltale sign he is angry, and I growl at him.

“You are injured, Ivyana!” he grits out. “Again. I knew this was a mistake. I keep telling you that vengeance will get you killed.” My anger rises like it always does with Enzo. He can get me so calm and then so angry at a moment’s notice. 

“This one is your fault. So thanks for that” I spit at him and his eyes melt into enormous guilt.

“how…? How did I fail you?” He drops his head on my lap, begging for me to explain, and I shove him off. 

“Your little girlfriend downstairs doesn’t like that you called me pretty.” I cross my arms over my chest and he frowns.

“I didn’t say you were pretty.” He says, standing at his full height.

A flash of hurt hits my chest at his words, and I push it down. Who cares if my protector thinks I’m pretty or not anyway?

“I don’t care what you said, but she thinks you said I was pretty. She didn’t like that very much. You must treat me with indifference, Enzo.” I demand. He nods as he runs his hands through his hair and then he kneels in front of me, taking my hand again.

“Yes, Mistress. Whatever you need.” He whispers as he drops a kiss on my hand. “I am at your disposal.”

“Will you stay with me tonight?” I whisper and he looks up at me with an emotion I can’t quite place races through his eyes as they soften. 

“Of course, Ivyana.” He mutters. 

“Stop calling me that. It’s not my name.” I say with a small smile as I crawl onto the bed.

“It was mine and Caleb’s name for you.” He whispers, hopping on the bed next to me and in the next second, he shifts into his wolf. I snuggle into his side for his warmth, and he rests his big head next to mine. 

“I know it was… But Caleb is gone and now the name hurts me…” I explain with a yawn. 

I stare up at the ceiling, anxious about tomorrow and worried about being successful.

“We have made it this far, Enzo. I just have to get in Haley’s good graces and work my way up so we can finally meet the alpha. One step at a time.” he whimpers and licks my cheek and I scowl at him before turning and pressing myself deeper into his fur, sleeping pulling me into its grips within moments of my eyes closing.