The Alpha and the slave princess

Swear an alliance

Amara’s POV

I didn't have the strength to fight him. My head lolled against his shoulder, and my cheek rested against the cold, smooth silk of his shirt. Every step he took sent a fresh jolt of agony through my side, making my vision spark with white light.

The halls blurred past like a dizzying smear of stone and flickering shadows.

The significance of the silence between us was heavier than anything I have known. I wanted to scream at him, to ask him why he was carrying me like something precious when he had just watched me get beaten like a dog. But the words were stuck in my throat, choked by the copper tang of blood.

We reached his quarters. He didn't wait for a guard to open the doors, he kicked them open with a force that made the wood open suddenly. He carried me straight to the large, fur-draped bed and dropped me. It wasn't a gentle landing. My body hit the mattress, and I let out a choked sob as my bruised ribs screamed in protest.

"Stay," he barked.

"Where... where else would I go?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He didn't answer. He turned away and began to pace the room like a caged animal. He was vibrating with a strange, dark energy. He went to the sideboard, grabbed a decanter of water, and threw it against the far wall. The glass shattered into a thousand glittering pieces, but it didn't seem to cool his rage.

"You had to slap her," he hissed, turning back to face me. His eyes still had that flat, terrifying white. "In a room full of people, you had to prove you still had teeth."

"She slapped me first," I croaked, trying to pull the remains of my dress over my legs. "She mocked my people. What was I supposed to do? Bow?"

"Yes!" he roared, crossing the room in three long strides. He loomed over the bed, his presence suffocating me instantly. "You should have bowed. You should have been invisible. Do you have any idea what you have done? Salsa is the daughter of a man who controls the southern passes. Because of your pride, I just threw away a ten-year alliance."

"Then you should have let them kill me!" I shouted back, the effort making me cough up a spray of red. "If your alliance is so important, why am I here? Why didn't you let them finish it?"

Julian’s hand flew out, grabbing my chin and tilting my head back. His grip was bruising me, his thumb pressing into the corner of my mouth where I had a split from the beating.

"Because you are mine," he whispered, his voice dropping to a jagged, dangerous edge. "Every drop of blood you lose belongs to me. Every bruise on your skin is an insult to my property. They had no right to touch what is mine."

Property. The word felt like a foul comment to my ears. I looked at him, searching for even a flicker of the man who had kissed me in the study, the man who was supposed to be my mate. But there was nothing but ice.

"I hate you," I breathed.

"I know," he replied, his gaze dropping to my lips."But it doesn't change the fact that you are tied to me. And since you can't seem to keep yourself out of trouble, I am going to make sure you never leave this room again."

He let go of my chin and stepped back. "Strip."

I froze. "What?"

"The dress is ruined. It's covered in your blood and the filth of the floor," he said coldly. "Take it off. I won't have you staining my bed with the smell of your failure."

"Julian, please... I can't move my arms," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "My ribs... I think they are broken."

He didn't offer to help. He just stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me. "Then struggle while you remove it. If you had the strength to fight a Beta, you have the strength to take off a rag."

Tears of frustration and pain spilled over my cheeks. I reached up with trembling fingers, trying to find the laces at my side. Every movement felt like a hot knife was being driven into my lungs. I fumbled with the wet, silk-thin fabric, with my breath coming in short, pathetic whines.

I managed to loosen the top, but my shoulder locked up, and I fell back against the pillows, gasping for air. I felt humiliated. I felt like a broken doll he was playing with just to see how much more I could take.

Finally, Julian let out a huff of annoyance. He walked over to the bed and reached down. I flinched, expecting a blow, but he simply grabbed the fabric of the gold dress and ripped it. The silk gave way with a sharp hiss, falling away from my body in two pieces.

I sat there in nothing but my undergarments and the silver collar, my skin mottled with ugly purple and blue bruises. The contrast of the white bedding against my damaged body made me look even worse.

Julian’s eyes moved over the injuries. He didn't look sorry. He looked angry, like a man who had found a scratch on his favorite sword.

"Silas!" he called out.

The door opened immediately. The Beta didn't step inside, he knew better than to enter the Alpha’s private space when he was in this state.

"Bring a healer," Julian ordered. "And bring a basin of warm water. And Silas... tell the guards who were in the hall tonight to report to the pits. They are to be stripped of their rank and given twenty lashes each for allowing a guest to strike a prisoner under my roof."

"Yes, Alpha," Silas said, his voice neutral.

I watched Julian as the door closed. He was punishing his own men for what happened, but he wouldn't even look me in the eye with kindness.

"Why do you care?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "If you hate me so much, why punish them?"

Julian walked over to the window, looking out at the dark forest. "Because they allowed someone else to do my job, Elara. Only I get to decide when you suffer. Only I get to decide when you bleed."

He turned back to me, the firelight catching the sharp angles of his face.

"You think this is about the mate bond? You think I’m doing this because the Goddess told me to?" He laughed, a dark, bitter sound. "I’m doing this because I’m going to break you, Elara. I’m going to make you forget you were ever a Princess. And by the time I’m done, you won’t even remember your own father’s name."

He walked toward the bed, leaning down until he was hovering right over me. He didn't touch me, but I could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"The Mating Ball is over," he whispered. "The games are over. From now on, your world starts and ends in this room. Do you understand?"

I didn't answer. I just looked at him with all the hatred I had left.

"Answer me," he growled, his hand coming up to rest near my throat, his thumb brushing the edge of the silver collar.

"I understand," I whispered.

"Good."

He stood up and walked toward the door. Just as he was about to leave, he paused. “The healer will be here shortly. Don't try to speak to her. If you say one word about what happened tonight, I will make sure the maid in the kitchens doesn't live to see the sunrise."

The door slammed shut, and I heard the heavy click of the lock.

I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My body was screaming in pain, and my heart felt like it had been turned to ash. I was a prisoner in a gold cage, mated to a monster who saw me as nothing more than a broken toy. I guess his best threat to me is how he can wipe away my people in the twinkle of an eye.

But as I lay there in the dark, I felt a strange, cold calm settle over me. He wanted to break me. He wanted to make me forget who I was.

I reached up and touched the split in my lip. The pain was sharp, but it was real.

"I won't forget," I whispered to the empty room. "I will never forget."

A moment later, a small panel in the wall, one I hadn't noticed before, slid open but it wasn't the healer. It was a small, thin boy, no older than ten, carrying a tray of bandages and a bowl of water. He looked terrified, his eyes darting toward the main door before he scurried toward the bed.

"Who are you?" I asked, trying to sit up.

"Shh," the boy hissed, his voice trembling. He set the tray down on the nightstand. "I'm Leo. Ashanti sent me. She said... she said you would need this."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, crumpled piece of paper.

"She said to tell you the tunnels aren't all blocked," he whispered, his eyes wide. "But you have to be fast. The Alpha is planning something for tomorrow. Something terrible."

My heart hammered against my bruised ribs.

"What?" I asked, grabbing the boy’s sleeve. "What is he planning?"

The boy looked at the door, his face pale with fear. "He’s bringing the survivors, Princess. All of them. He’s going to make them swear an oath of blood to him... or he’s going to execute them in the Great Hall."