All Chapters of Slave By Birth (Werewolf Special): Chapter 51 - Chapter 55

He walked over to where I was bending, bending down beside me to examine the hibiscus flowers. "It seems you've taken an interest in the hibiscus flowers I like," he observed. I nodded, keeping my response brief. "Yes." Drake's eyes locked onto mine, his gaze intense. "Look at me," he commanded, and I met his stare, my heart pounding in my chest. "It seems you're having a difficult time," he said, his voice low and concerned. I wondered if he was truly aware of the turmoil I was feeling or if he was just pretending to be oblivious. "Yes," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. Drake's response caught me off guard. "You should be," he said. I was taken aback, unsure if he was joking or serious. I scoffed inwardly, my mind racing with questions. Drake stood up, towering over me as he stared down, his eyes still locked onto mine. "A lion that chose to fight for a helpless lioness in the camp of enemies whose fate has been decided on since its existence, risks the chance of

"I told you, didn't I?" he yelled, his blade flashing in the light as he aimed it at me. I dodged it by sheer luck, my fear-fueled instincts taking over. But in my attempt to evade him, he grabbed my hair, and I felt a searing pain as he dragged me out. He pulled me across the jet floor until my back slammed against a dead end. "This time, you won't be able to dodge my attack," he yelled, pinning me to the it with one hand. I begged for my life, my voice trembling with fear. "Please don't kill me." He released his grip on my shoulder, his eyes roaming over my face. "The more I look at you, the more I find you beautiful and attractive," he said, his voice low and menacing. He began to toy with my loose hair, his fingers intertwining with the strands as he held the knife in his other hand. "It's such a pity that such a pretty thing will have to die," he added, his voice with sadistic sentiment. "Don't worry, since

All hope seemed lost as I frantically thought of an explanation, with all eyes on me. I didn't want to attribute it to my period, nor did I want to reveal the truth. "I'm not surprised you're a useless, clumsy slave," Felix sneered. "Spilling red grape wine on yourself is childish." I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking I was safe. But then Mrs. Jordan, seated at an angle where she could see the stain, chimed in. "I don't think it's red grape wine," she declared, her words sending a jolt through me. "And if it is not that, it doesn't look like the right position for a period, even if it came unexpectedly, and it's a little stain," she added, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized the stain. At this point, I thought it wise to swallow my fear and explain myself and the events that had transpired. Just as the silence was about to become unbearable and I was about to confess, Felix intervened, unwittingly saving me from trouble. "It's the wine," Felix suggested, "I saw the way she