A girl meets her mate

Washing the work men's clothes was the hardest jobs I had ever done. It took hours for all the dirt to get off them. I did my best and left the permanent stains alone. Maryanne was assigned to work with me, but she was a mess so I let her sob and wallow in her misery while I did all the work. 

I was trying to be strong for the both of us. We had both lost family in such a short amount of time. She may not have been related to Angela and Patricia but after living together for a year, they had become family. 

When the workmen's clothes were dry and their rooms were clean, I was able to relax.

Maryanne and I walked through the trees to the pack palace which was just a few meters away.

It was beautiful, magnificent. The tall and white building had five beautiful stories. 

“So much better than my pack's house,” Maryanne said.

“Mine too,” I said.

Dad had once told me that Blackmoon was one of the richest pack kingdoms in the werewolf world. Apparently, there were a lot of minerals in their land which they sold off to humans and made millions. They made sure not to tell the humans were it was being got from. Apparently, humans would come for it immediately and use proceeds to benefit themselves.

The more I heard about humans, the more horrible I began to believe they were. However, that had not stopped me from being curious, and wanting to see their world.

A few years back, some minerals had been discovered in our pack. It was the greed for the proceeds of those minerals that had killed my father.

He started mining them illegally, mostly at night, and selling off to traveling middlemen who would then sell to humans. My father wanted to amass a lot of money and go to live in the human world. He had been there once, and wished to go back. 

One time, he even told my mother he wanted a human mistress because their vulnerability was attractive to him. Mother said nothing and continued to cut vegetables.

Maryanne and I were standing behind the trees near the front of the pack house when we saw some maids coming from the outhouse and rushing down the concrete path. One of them saw us and frowned so we retreated and sat in the middle of the small forest separating the slaves from pack members.

“I wonder how the slave rules are,” I missed.

“I wonder where Angela is,” Maryanne said. “I know that she is suffering yet I can't help. I swore to always be there for her.”

“It's not your fault that she was taken,” I told her. “Let's just hope she is in a good place like we are.”

“I love her so much. She shouldn't be in this mess. I would give my life for hers.”

“I know.”

“I know that you didn't care about her because you didn't know her.”

“I feel really bad about what happened to you. It was terrible.”

“You are okay, but I'm breaking down here.”

“I have to be strong for both of us,” I said. “Do you want to be sold to a worse place?”

“As long as Angela is with me,” she said.

I rolled my eyes. She was impossible. “Whatever.” 

“Whatever? You are one cold hearted bitch,” Maryanne accused me.

I stood up. “You know what, I have tried to be here for you but you don't seem to appreciate it. From now on, we can each mind our own businesses.”

“You're so full of yourself,” she said.

“Likewise,” I said and started to walk away. I paused and then returned to give her a piece of mind.

“All you do is talk about Angela and yourself,” I said. “I've listened to you all day. Now that I want to relax and talk about other things, you accuse me of being cold hearted. 

Have you for once, thought about how I'm feeling? I lost my parents and siblings two days ago but here I am, working hard so that one day I can look for them in future. Life is not hard for you alone.”

I wanted to keep talking but a sweet piney smell made it's way to my nose. 

“What's that?”

“What?” Maryanne asked.

“Never mind,” I said, walking away from Maryanne. For some reason, I felt like walking towards the palace, was drawn to it. As I walked forward, the delicious scent kept getting stronger until it was almost intoxicating. 

By then I was in front of the palace. 

“Step out of there,” someone said. I turned and saw a maid at the entrance of the building. “The alpha king is coming.”

I turned and froze when I saw the most handsome man ever, walking next to a tall beautiful woman with a curvy body. Some maids were behind them, carrying bags and suitcases.

That couldn't be the alpha king. He was old. His son was the handsome one, I thought before it dawned on me. The super-hot son had taken over. 

He was sexy, just as Poppy had described. Lean, strong muscles, extremely tall and handsome. He had a straight nose, bright ocean blue eyes, and lush lips. A strong jaw with hard planes lined the lower part of his face. All the beautifully masculine features were covered by spotless tan skin. Looking downwards at his jeans, I realized he was a man in every sense of the word. I felt my body getting warm.

“Move,” I heard the maid say. My mind knew I had to move away, but my body said otherwise.

“Mate,” my wolf said, brimming with excitement. I blinked.

Mate. The sexy alpha king was my mate. Who would have thought?

“What's wrong with you?” The pretty woman asked. I had not realized they'd drawn close. The smelled so good I wanted to wrap my hands around him and never let go.

I decided to ignore the woman and face my mate, hoping he would accept and not reject me. Having suffered so much lately, I needed a little bit of happiness.

Wondering if he had sensed the mate bond, I looked into his eyes. They were cold and hard, showing no hint of recognition.

“Move, slave.” He said. 

I couldn't move.

He shoved me to the side and I fell because of the unexpected push. The pair took the short flight of stairs while the other maids just stared at me.

“Welcome back, your highness and Miss Willow.” The maid who had opened the main door said, and he walked in with the pretty woman. 

Did he really not sense anything? 

“What’s wrong with this slave?” one of the maids asked.

The rest shrugged and carried the bags into the house.

The maid had said Miss Willow while referring to the woman. He had not made her his Luna.

There was hope.