Chapter 3: Keepsake

Arianna’s POV: 

The moment the Alpha King made the announcement, everyone was talking—no, whispering—about him. 

The Lycan King.

Lycans were terrifying—and their King was the worst of the bunch. At least in our pack, most people say so.

But also, right now, it seemed like my ticket out of this hellhole. 

If they were sending someone to him, and it was me, then I could figure out a way to escape.

Just then, the Alpha King raised his hand for silence and the murmurs stopped instantly. 

“If I hear one more whisper,” he began with a face scrunched up in anger, “you won’t live to regret it.”

A collective shiver passed through the room, and I swore all the slaves held their breath. I felt it too—fear settling in my gut like a stone—but then Kyan stepped forward.

“Father,” he started, “If I may speak.”

The Alpha King’s eyes narrowed, but he gave a curt nod. “You may.”

And then it happened. 

Kyan grabbed my wrist so hard it felt like he was trying to break a bone. 

I flinched, a hiss of pain escaping before I could stop it. His fingers were like iron, and I had no doubt he enjoyed the way I squirmed.

“Father,” Kyan said loudly, yanking my arm upward like a trophy, “this slave does not deserve to go. She’s the daughter of a traitor. She’s not worthy of representing our pack before the Lycan King.”

My heart sank like a stone in water. Not because I thought he was right, but because I knew exactly what this was about. 

Kyan didn’t care about worthiness. 

He cared about keeping me here, under his thumb, where he could torment me whenever he felt like it.

But the idea of staying? Of enduring more of this twisted torture? 

Anything—anything—was better than that.

If I was going to have to have to put up a show for it, then I would.

So, I immediately dropped to my knees.

“My Alpha King,” I said, “I know what I am. I know I am a slave.” I paused as Kyan’s grip tightened on my wrist, but I ignored him. 

“I know I am the daughter of a traitor. I am a traitor myself.”

I lifted my head slowly, meeting the Alpha King’s gaze. “That is why I am the perfect sacrifice. I am nothing, so I can be given for the sake of werewolf peace.”

“I promise….I promise,” My voice cracked, “to perform well, to serve the Lycan King in any way he desires. I am ready to sacrifice my life for the peace of our kind.”

The room was dead silent, every eye on me. 

I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes—real ones, because the humiliation burned like fire—but I let them fall.

Aster snickered. “Bravo, Ari. Truly. What a performance.” 

“Very funny,” I muttered inwardly. “I’m not trying to win an award; I’m trying to get out of here.”

All I could do was kneel there, trembling, and pray that my performance was enough.

The Alpha King’s eyes narrowed as he studied me. His lips twitched into something that resembled a cruel smile. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” I whispered, nodding so fervently I thought my neck might snap. “Yes, my Alpha.” 

His gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, and then said, “Good. You will be part of the slaves sent to the Lycan King. Behave well.”   

“Thanks, my king.” I sighed in relief inwardly, but I dared not show it. I swallowed the lump in my throat, “May... may I ask for one thing before I go?”

The Alpha King’s expression didn’t change, but he gave a small nod. “Go on.”

I licked my lips, my stomach churning. “If I am allowed to leave…may I... may I return to my home to retrieve my things?”

The Alpha King tilted his head, mulling over the thought for a while. But then, finally, he nodded. “You may.” He answered, “But If you have any thoughts of escaping, you will regret being alive. ” 

Saying my heart leaped for joy was an understatement. The relief that flooded my veins was so much, I fell to the floor, pressing my forehead against the cold tiles. 

“Thank you,” I said,  “Thank you, my Alpha.”

I stayed there, prostrate, until he barked, “Enough. Get up.”

I scrambled to my feet, daring to glance at Kyan. He was glaring at me, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought he might break a tooth. 

His hand was still gripping my arm, his nails digging painfully into my skin.

“All right, Kyan. Let her go. Your mother will find another slave for you to play.” Alpha King said.

Kyan held on a moment longer, his eyes locked on mine, before he begrudgingly let go. My arm throbbed, but I kept my face blank until I was out of the hall.

Once the heavy doors closed behind me, I let out a shaky breath. My arm burned, but I didn’t stop to nurse it. There wasn’t time. I hurried out of the packhouse and into the cool air. 

The small shack I called home wasn’t far, just a short walk past the main grounds. It wasn’t really a house—more like a storage shed—but it was mine. 

When I got in, I knelt by the loose floorboard in the corner, my fingers trembling as I pried it open. Beneath it lay two things: my mother’s sapphire necklace and a rusty dagger.

I picked the necklace up carefully, cradling it in my hands.

I could hear in my head my mother's words to me “This necklace is important, Arianna. Promise me you’ll keep it safe.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening. “I’ve kept it safe, Mama,” I whispered. “Even when everything else fell apart.”

“And now we’re taking it with us,” Aster said softly. “It’s time.”

I slipped the necklace over my head and then my eyes fell on the dagger. It was old, the blade dull and spotted with rust, but it had once been hers.

“It’s seen better days,” I murmured, a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips.

“So have we,” Aster quipped. “But that doesn’t make us any less dangerous.”

Just then, the door slammed open with a force that rattled the entire shack. My heart leaped into my throat and I whirled around just as a shadow filled the doorway.

Before I could even register who it was, a hand shot out, grabbing my neck.

The next thing I knew, I was airborne, my back colliding with the wall so hard the breath whooshed out of me. My vision blurred for a second, but there was no mistaking the face in front of me.

Kyan.

“Did you think I’d just let you go?” he sneered as his hand tightened around my neck.

My hands clawed at his wrist, trying to loosen his grip, but he was too strong. 

Then he leaned in closer, his breath hot and foul against my face. “You know, I’ve never had the pleasure of fucking a slave before.” His lips curled into a cruel smile. “Maybe I should see what all the fuss is about.”

Panic shot through me like a lightning bolt. “No,” I rasped, barely able to force the word out.

But he wasn’t listening. His free hand moved to the front of my cloth, and with a sharp tug, the fabric tore, exposing my naked body to the cold air.

“No!”