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THE NEW PURPOSE
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2025-03-01 02:39:10Serena's POV
"Just kill me, please." The words slip from my lips before I can stop them. My voice is hoarse, barely louder than a whisper. I hear gasps, but I could not care less. I have lost everything, my family, my home, my dignity. Death would be a mercy. The soldier holding me hesitates, his grip on my arms tightening. His blade hovers at my throat, close enough that I feel it bite against my skin. “Wait”, a voice shouts, it is a young soldier running towards us. “The General says we should not kill anyone till we get to the stronghold”. The cloaked figure waves his hands, and the soldier lowers his blade. I sigh in defeat, wondering why it is so hard to die. “Assemble every slave, we leave at dusk”, I hear him order and as soon as he says this, things become busy. Some soldiers transform into their wolves running to God knows where, while the others round up the slaves. My wrists burn where the silver chain bites into my skin. The Nythera wolves march me and the other survivors into their territory, their small talk and cruel laughter irritating in my ears. My legs ache, but I refuse to stumble. As much as I want these monsters to kill me, I will decide how to go. I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing me weak. “You look like it hit you worse than the rest of us”, I hear a voice whisper beside me. I look to see a petite girl with the prettiest green eyes staring straight at me and smiling. I am only able to acknowledge her with a weak smile, as I am in no mood for small talk. “I’m Athea by the way ”, she whispers again, but this time she pokes my side with an elbow. “Serena”, I reply, mentally wincing from the pain. Her eyes widen in shock and she scoots closer to me. “The Luna Serena or another Serena?”, she whispers. I have no idea how to reply, so I just give her a nod. The journey blurs together, but by the time we reach the Nythera stronghold, I am certain of one thing, I would rather die than live as a slave. The slaves are lined up before a stone platform. At its center, a man stands draped in a blood-red cloak, watching. It does not take long to guess who he is. General Elowen. I have heard stories of him, the ruthless Delta of Nythera. One by one, the slaves are assigned to different roles, kitchen workers, stable hands…….. Then, it gets to my turn. A soldier grabs me by the arm forcing me forward. "She’s the Alpha’s daughter," he mutters, filled with disdain. "A waste of breath." I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the sting of steel, but the death I crave and beg for never comes. “Wait,” a voice commands. My eyes snap open, and through the blur of smoke, I see him step forward. General Elowen, the killer, a master of war, and now he is standing before me, staring down at me as if deciding like I am nothing. I lift my chin, glaring at him. “Kill me.” He crouches, his sharp eyes locking onto mine. “You want to die?” His tone sounds almost amused. I swallow hard. "I have nothing left." He studies me for a moment, his eyes grazing over the dirt and blood staining my face. Then, to my shock, he lets out a small breath, something that sounds like disappointment. “No,” he says simply.“ Not today.” I stiffen. “What?” He turns to one of the soldiers, disregarding me. “Take her to the royal manor.” My heart pounds in disbelief. Serve in the royal manor? The thought fills me with rage. I do not want to serve these monsters. I am about to argue when suddenly it hits me. If I serve at the royal manor, I can get my revenge. As soon as General Elowen says this, I am shoved forward. It is late at night when we get to the manor. I gulp, forcing back the tears. The manor looks just like mine except mine is now in ruins. I do not get a chance to look around as I am shoved into the estate. As soon as we enter, I notice that something is wrong. Servants dash in and out of the grand entrance, whispering with panicked voices. The soldier who accompanied me shoves me into the manor and leaves hurriedly. I barely have time to react before rough hands grab me, yanking me into the midst of servants rushing into a grand chamber. “What the hell is going on here?”I whisper under my breath, but apparently, a servant hears it. “The alpha is about to die”, she whispers back. Before we can continue talking, a loud voice makes us jump. “The Alpha, he’s—” “No, it cannot be happening now—” “Get another healer! Hurry!” As soon as I enter the chamber, I am hit with the heavy scent of incense. It is packed with nobles, warriors, and healers, all gathered around a king-sized bed where a man lay gasping for breath. The Alpha of Nythera. I take a step back, overwhelmed, only to collide with someone. A sharp shove knocks me to the ground. “Watch where you’re going, slave.” I lift my gaze, locking eyes with a man. His golden eyes shine with irritation the he turns away, stepping past me and vanishing into the Alpha’s chamber. “Tristan Sinclair, the Alpha heir”, Isabel, the slave from earlier whispers in my ears. As I watch the great Alpha struggle for his final breath, surrounded by his sons and the pack that had slaughtered mine, something inside me hardens. I clench my fists, nails biting into my palms. I will not break or kneel. I will have my revenge. I have a goal and it is simple. Destroy the royal family of Nythera.
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