The Alpha’s Slave

BRIANNA’S POV

My nerves got the best of me as I paced to and fro like a pendulum in my chamber. I looked out the window now and then, wishing for bad weather. But the more I looked, the nicer the weather got and the faster afternoon was drifting to evening.

Walking away from the window to my bed, I let out an inward groan. I just wished there was a way I could escape the dinner party. Escape everything but sadly, there wasn’t.

There was a knock on the door. I made sure to double-lock it after the scenario with Sebastian earlier this morning. Drawing out a long breath, I gathered myself up and went to open the door only to meet the expressionless face of the maid who had brought the blue sequin dress I used yesterday. She was carrying yet another box to my surprise.

“The king has ordered me to get you ready for the cocktail party,” she walked in without my consent and I was a bit annoyed.

I closed the door and turned, only for her to toss a dress over to me. “Put that on and sit so I can fix your hair and makeup.”

Another dress? I was yet to return the one I used yesterday and here she was handing me another. My face was distorted with a mix of confusion and suppressed rage as I mused over the gown.

It was a delicate off-shoulder cocktail gown with a rich shade of vibrant red and a thigh-high slit. Even though I hated to admit it, the gown was stunning.

“Your taking forever to look at that gown,” the maid snapped as she walked to the vanity table. She pulled the chair away from the table and leaned on it, her gaze intent on me. “I have less than an hour to get you ready.”

Slashing out a quick breath, I slowly nodded at her. Gently, I removed my clothes and slid into the gown. As I did, images of Catherine, if I’m allowed to call her that, flickered across my mind. Who knew what will she do to me when she sees me wearing yet another gown befitting for only a Luna like her? My eyes momentarily shut as I thought of this.

But come to think of it, this was a formal outing. Why isn’t Sebastian going with her? She was his wife after all. Or didn’t he tell her about the invitation?

After adjusting and fastening the gown, I turned to the maid. “And the mistress?”

“I think she went out, I haven’t seen her all day. Come on, sit,” she screeched the chair noisily and motioned me to sit as though she was commanding her pet.

I was reluctant but I still did as she said. Something within me kept praying that what she said about Catherine not being around had better be true. The last thing I wanted was to cross paths with that tigress again, especially when I was dressed like this.

“Does she treat you well?” I asked as I sat down, my voice slightly above a whisper.

She gave me a long hard stare and her expressionless eyes suddenly came alive with something like fear that flashed through them in the mirror. Did I say something I shouldn’t have? Suddenly, her gaze lowered back to my hair.

“Just do whatever she says,” she gently brushed my hair, the bristles of the brush running along to untangle the twists.

But what was she so afraid of? What were they all afraid of? The maid that escorted me back to the chamber last night had the same look on face on her face when we stumbled upon Catherine on our way back… and so did I.

Like a mouse, I stayed quiet as I watched her run paintbrushes through my face, draw my brows, line my eyes, and my lips, painted them deep red and finished everything off with a natural, rosy blush to add a touch of colour to my cheeks. She was cautious and very skilful, as though she’d been doing this for a long time.

She took a delicate hairpin adorned with shimmering crystals from the table and held it between her teeth. Her fingertips teased and glided through my silky strands with practised ease. She held it up and tried securing the elegant updo with the hairpin when she caught sight of something and stopped.

“I would have loved to tuck your hair to a chignon but the scar below your neck will be visible if I do so.”

I had expected that. Her fingers grazed the part where the scar was and I shuddered, memories of how I got it involuntarily conjuring up in my mind.

***

After the incident with Hermes’s sister and how Hermes never stood up for me, I made up my mind to leave the castle at once.

I packed the little belongings I had come with and the gifts he bought me. He was calling me back but I kept ignoring him. On reaching the exit, I jerked the door handle but it wasn’t budging.

“Brianna, stay away from the door. Get back to your room right this instant.”

His words that day were still as fresh as morning mist in my head.

I jerked it hard and wilder but it still was not budging. The next thing I heard was something like a whip slicing through the air and landing on my upper bare back as I was wearing an off-shoulder top.

My back was red hot with pain and I turned to face Hermes, shocked to the marrow. Hermes whipped me with a leather belt. I never expected that from the gentle, loving Alpha king who I thought was my dream come true.

He kicked away my belongings and the gifts he bought me, grabbed my wrist and hauled me back into the room. I persisted and tried wriggling free but his grip was too strong, dragging me as though I was some toy car.

After we reached the room, he threw me into the bed and locked the door. He headed to the dresser while I rushed back to the door, pounding against it like a psycho, screaming at the top of my voice but no one came to my rescue.

He rushed back to me and enveloped my mouth with his large palms to silence me. “Shut the hell up! You’re driving me crazy.”

The next thing I felt was a needle penetrating deep into the side of my neck. Within moments, a profound change washed over me. I stopped screaming. My eyelids grew heavy and my breathing became deep and slow. He sedated me.

The last thing I remembered was him carrying me into the bed. I slept for what seemed like an eternity and woke up to a scar etched on the area the belt landed.

***

“Are you okay?” The maid’s voice jolted me back to reality.

“Yes…yes,” I nodded, looking down to avoid her gaze. My eyes were becoming teary but I stifled it. The last thing I wanted was to ruin the makeup she worked hard on.

“Ok,” she answered, not sounding so convinced. “I’ll just let it fall along your back to hide the scar then?”

“Yes,” I looked in the mirror. “I’ll love it that way.” That was the hairstyle I loved carrying ever since I got the scar. Hopefully, it’ll fade like the rest.

I wondered if she saw the ones at the side of my stomach while I was changing. Perhaps, there was a chance she didn’t. They were faded and she stood at a distance behind me then.

“You’re all good to go,” she walked to the dresser, pulled out the lowest drawer and drew out a pair of strapped heels that had the same colour as my hair.

I never knew there were more shoes there. That meant they kept those shoes for a purpose. Was there someone here before me? Or were they just for me?

“Put these on,” she dropped them on the floor.

“Who owns the shoes in that dresser?” I asked as I bent down to put them on. I needed to satisfy my curiosity. To be sure Sebastian didn’t capture girls like Hermes did.

“The mistress owned them before she dumped them,” she said. “This used to be her and the king’s bedroom before they moved to their present one.”

I blinked severally trying to take in what she just said. No wonder the room was in such pristine condition, and exuded such high, exclusive taste. But on the bleak side, not only was I wearing a gown meant for her, but I was also wearing her shoes. Her leftover shoes still looked as good as new.

There was a tap on the door and the maid went to open it.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Welcome, my king.”

I looked up to see Sebastian and my mouth almost fell open. We were donning the same red colour.