Aliana
I climbed the stairs into the Alpha King’s home. The five-minute walk from the prison had passed in silence until now.
“Do as he says and you might survive,” Zev said before he nudged me towards the dining area.
They didn’t know I’d been surviving for years. Deeana and her then twelve-year-old daughter had moved into my home the day after my mother died. I’d been living off scraps and foraging ever since.
Ember was in the kitchen with a clipboard in hand, speaking to a man. They were discussing plans for dinner. The blonde-haired woman turned to face us before flipping over a page on her clipboard.
“Right. I’ll take her from you, Zev,” she said, approaching us.
With a nod, he left.
She began to list my duties as personal servant to the Alpha King.
“You rise at five. The Alpha wakes at six, and by then his coffee is made—black, no sugar—and his breakfast is plated. You’ll collect both from the kitchen and carry them up. You do not knock. He knows you’re coming.”
She flipped another page.
“You’ll lay out his clothing for the day. Wardrobe schedule is pinned inside the dressing room. Suits for council business, blacks for pack matters. If he’s training, leave the training kit on the bench, gloves on top. Boots polished the night before, never the morning of.”
“You’ll draw his bath in the evening and attend it. Towels warmed. He’ll tell you what he needs.”
Attend it. Attend a bath. How did one attend a bath?
“You’ll serve his meals when he dines at home and stand by until he’s finished. You eat after, in the kitchen. Whatever comes off his table is yours.”
My chest did something strange at that. His table. Not scraps scraped into a bin and fished out later. Off his table.
“His study is cleaned daily, but you touch nothing on the desk. Not a pen. Not a paper. His bedchamber, the same—clean it, air it, and leave it exactly as you found it. He notices everything.” She lowered the clipboard and looked at me properly for the first time.
“And he does. Notice everything. Remember that before you’re ever tempted to be clever. ”
“Anything he asks for, day or night, is yours to provide. You sleep in a room on his floor. His bedroom is at the top of the hall. There’s a bell.”
A bell.
Of course there was a bell.
“Questions?” she asked, in the tone of a woman who had allotted no time for any.
I had a hundred. I asked none of them.
“No,” I said.
Something flickered across her face—approval or pity, it was gone too fast to tell.
“Good. Then let’s get you in your… uniform. I’ll print you a copy of your duties. Study them as if your life depends on it.”
When I saw the uniform, I understood her hesitation. I touched the cream material and could see my fingers through it. I gaped at her.
“We all serve him,” she said, as if discussing the weather. “Our Alpha has not found his mate.”
? ? ?
My room was small, but it had a bed, a pillow, and a thick, warm blanket. One nightstand. A dresser. Luxury, compared to the basement at my father’s house.
I stared at the list of duties. They were manageable.
My issue was the dress.
The darker, thicker beige underlayer was comfortable enough, but the transparent chiffon above it left my breasts bare.
There were three dresses in total. One grey, two cream.
All of them with the same off-shoulder transparent bodice.
The ties at the back laced tight to cinch the fabric in at my waist.
The small mirror conveyed my fear.
I’d never had time to inspect my body before. I’d never realised my nipples were so prominent, so dark. I was about to check whether the grey dress was any better when the bell above my bed rang.
I checked his schedule for the day. He was in his office.
Once I’d slipped the soft pumps onto my feet, I rushed downstairs, which only drove the cool air against my breasts through the thin material. Hopefully the cold shrank my nipples.
I paused when I reached his door and took a deep breath before raising my hand to knock.
There was no answer, so I pushed the handle down and opened the door—and swallowed when I saw the Alpha King behind his desk, two of his men seated in front of him, Zev standing at his side. I cleared my throat before I spoke.
“You rang?”
“Yes. Pour us some scotch on the rocks,” he said.
I stepped inside and scanned the room, only to find the drinks were directly behind him.
“Yes, sir,” I said, keeping my gaze lowered—because I wanted to take one of the crystal decanters and bash his head in.
I was grateful for the food and several days of rest in peace. But this was—how could one Alpha be so pampered?
When I crossed the room, all eyes followed me.
No one spoke. No one moved. The tension pulled so taut that the ticking of the wall clock sounded like a gavel.
My hands trembled as I assembled the glasses on the cart.
Crystal chimed against crystal, obscenely loud.
When I tugged the stopper from the decanter, the pop seemed to shatter the silence.
A conversation started up behind me—low, male, deliberately casual—and I relaxed enough to build the drinks. This work I knew. My father had hosted many business dinners, and Deeana had demanded perfect service for every guest.
The scotch smelled of smoke and oak as it ran over the ice. Expensive. Older than me, probably.
I added the ice to the last glass on autopilot.
Had I not learned to fight, my dignity would have been lost many years ago. Every beating that followed had been worth it.
Men, women. It didn’t matter.
No one had protected me then, and no one would now.
I moved around the room, handing out the drinks one by one, never making eye contact. Task complete, I backed away until I felt the shelf behind me, in case he required anything more.
“She’s a better sight than her father,” someone said. Another grunted his agreement.
“Why don’t you kneel in the corner? I might need something else.”
I didn’t look at the wolf named Sorin the Terrible. I slid to my knees, feeling the familiar cold of the marble. Like the stone from the basement.
I didn’t look at whoever laughed.
I did wonder what was for dinner.