The Alpha and the slave princess

Breaking her spirit

Elara’s POV

The stone walls in the small room where I was kept are cold. They are more than cold, even more so that they are leaching the heat straight out of my bones.

I sat in the corner of the cell, my knees pulled tightly against my chest. The iron shackles on my wrists feel like they weigh a hundred pounds. Every time I moved, the chains clinked, and the sound echoed off the damp walls, reminding me that I am no longer a person. I am now a dog in a cage.

I don’t know how many days it has been. Time doesn't work the same way down here. There are no windows, no sun, no moon. There is only the flickering torchlight from the hallway and the sound of water dripping somewhere in the dark.

Drip. Drip. Drip. It keeps taunting me.

It feels like the sound was tapping directly on my brain.

A wooden tray sat near the heavy iron door. On it was a piece of hard bread and a bowl of thin, gray stew. It had been there for hours. The smell of it made my stomach cramp, but I didn't touch it. I couldn't. Every time I looked at the food, I saw my father’s face. I saw the way his eyes looked when the life left them. If I ate their food, I was accepting their mercy. I was accepting that I was their prisoner. I would rather starve.

"You need to eat, Princess."

The voice came from the cell across from mine. It was a man's voice, hoarse and tired. I didn't answer. I didn't have the strength to speak. My throat felt like it was full of sand.

"If you die of hunger, he wins," the voice continued. "The Alpha wants to see you wither away. Don't give him what he wants."

I leaned my head back against the stone. "He already won," I whispered. My voice was so cracked I barely recognized it. "He took everything. There is nothing left to fight for."

But as I said it, I knew I was lying.

My mind went to Ashanti. The last time I saw her, a soldier was dragging her by her hair toward the wagons. She was screaming my name. Is she in a cell like this? Or was she somewhere worse? Ashanti doesn’t know how to fight. She is rather gentle. She spends most of her days picking flowers and mending my tunics. The thought of her in the hands of the Blackwood Eclipse warriors made a fresh wave of nausea hit me.

And the children. Oh gracious. . .

I closed my eyes and saw the faces of the little ones from my pack. Leo, who was only six and wanted to be a lead scout. Sarah, who was just starting to show her wolf traits. I remembered the way they looked at me during the festival last month with respect, with hope. They thought I was going to protect them. I was their future Alpha, but I had watched their world burn.

Are they alive? Or did Julian keep his promise to kill every last one of us?

The heavy iron bar on my door slid back with a loud thud. I flinched, pulling myself smaller into the corner. The door creaked open, and the light from the hallway flooded in, blinding me for a moment.

Two guards stepped in. They were wearing the black leather of the Eclipse pack. They didn't look at me like I was a woman or a princess. They looked at me like I was a chore they had to finish.

"Still hasn't eaten," one of them said, kicking the tray. The stew splashed onto the floor, mixing with the dirt. "The Alpha isn't going to be happy. He wants her 'spirit intact' for tonight."

"Tonight?" I asked, my heart starting to race. "What happens tonight?"

The guard laughed. It was a dry, mean sound. "The Alpha is holding a feast. A victory celebration. He wants his prize there to show the pack what happens to traitors."

He reached down and grabbed my arm. His fingers dug into my bruised skin, and he hauled me to my feet. My legs were weak from hunger and I stumbled, falling against him. He pushed me back roughly.

"Stand up! You’re supposed to be a warrior, aren't you? Move!"

They dragged me out of the cell. My bare feet dragged on the cold stone floor. As we passed the other cells, I tried to peer into the shadows. I was looking for a flash of Ashanti’s dress or the sound of a child’s cry.

"Ashanti!" I croaked out. "Ashanti, are you there?"

"Quiet!" The guard backhanded me across the face.

The world spun. My lip split, and the taste of blood. . . my own blood. . . filled my mouth. I didn't cry. I swallowed the blood and glared at him through my tangled hair. My father had told me never to let an enemy see me cry. Pain is a teacher, Elara, he used to say. Learn from it. Don't let it break you.

They led me up a long, winding stone staircase. The higher we went, the louder the sounds became. I could hear music, the deep, rhythmic thumping of drums. I could hear laughter and the clinking of glasses. It was the sound of a party. A celebration of my people’s death.

We reached a large wooden door. The guards stopped and began to unwrap the chains from my wrists, replacing them with a single, long silver chain that was attached to a heavy collar. They snapped the collar around my neck. The silver burned my skin instantly. It felt like a ring of fire. I gasped, reaching up to pull at it, but the silver weakened me, making my muscles feel like water.

"Don't fight it," the guard warned. "The more you struggle, the more it burns."

The doors swung open.

The Great Hall of the Blackwood Eclipse was massive. Huge fires roared in the hearths, casting long, dancing shadows on the walls. Hundreds of wolves were gathered around long tables, feasting on roasted meat and dark ale. The smell of the food was overwhelming, making my stomach twist in agony.

At the far end of the room, on a raised platform, sat a throne made of dark wood and bone.

And there he was.

Julian Harthorn.

He wasn't wearing his armor today. He wore a simple black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal thick, scarred forearms. He held a golden cup in one hand, and he was leaning back, listening to one of his commanders. He looked relaxed. He looked like a king who had no regrets.

As the guards led me into the room, the noise began to die down. One by one, the wolves turned to look at me. I felt their eyes crawling over me, eyes full of hate, curiosity, and mockery. I was covered in filth, my clothes were torn, and I was being led by a leash.

I kept my head up. My legs were shaking, and the silver collar was making it hard to breathe, but I refused to look at the floor.

The guards forced me to walk all the way to the platform. They made me stop right in front of Julian. He didn't look at me at first. He finished his drink, handed the cup to a servant, and then slowly shifted his gaze downward.

His silver eyes scanned me from head to toe. I felt like a piece of meat being inspected at a market.

"You look terrible, princess," he said. His voice carried across the silent hall. "My men tell me you have been on a hunger strike. Do you think starving yourself makes you a martyr? It just makes you weak."

"I won't eat the bread of a murderer," I said. My voice was stronger than I expected.

Julian stood up. He was so tall that I had to crane my neck to see him. He stepped off the platform and walked toward me. The crowd held its breath. He stopped so close that I could smell the wine on his breath.

He reached out and took a lock of my matted, dirty hair between his fingers.

"You still have that fire in your eyes," he whispered so only I could hear. "I wonder how long it will take to turn that fire into ash."

He looked past me, toward the doors. "Bring them in."

My heart stopped.

A group of soldiers entered the hall. They were pushing a small group of people, maybe ten or twelve. My breath caught in my throat. It was Ashanti. She was pale and shaking, her eyes red from crying. Behind her were four of the pack children. They looked terrified, clinging to each other as the soldiers prodded them with the dull ends of their spears.

"Ashanti!" I lunged toward her, but the guard holding my chain jerked it back. The silver collar bit into my throat, cutting off my air. I fell to my knees, clawing at the metal.

"Stop!" Ashanti screamed, seeing me fall.

Julian looked down at me, his face a mask of cold indifference. "These are the survivors you were worried about, right? Your 'people'."

He walked over to where the children were standing. He put a hand on Leo’s head. The little boy froze, his eyes wide with horror.

"Their lives are in your hands, Elara," Julian said.

"Every meal you refuse, every time you talk back, every time you try to be the 'brave princess,' I will take it out on them. If you don't eat tonight, the boy will not eat for a week. If you try to escape, your maid loses a finger. Do you understand how this works now?"

I looked at Ashanti. She is shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. I looked at Leo, who was trembling under Julian’s hand.

The anger I had felt, the hot, burning rage, was suddenly replaced by a cold, hollow fear. I could endure the dungeon. I could endure the silver. I could even endure death. But I couldn't endure being the reason they suffered.

Julian had found my weakness. He hadn't broken my spirit with a sword or a whip. He was breaking it with the people I loved.

"I understand," I whispered.

"I didn't hear you," Julian said, his grip tightening slightly on Leo’s hair. The boy let out a tiny whimper.

"I understand!" I shouted, my voice breaking. "Please. Just... leave them alone."

Julian smiled that devil’s smile again. He let go of the boy and walked back to me. He signaled to a servant, who brought over a plate of meat. Julian took a piece of it and held it out to me.

"Eat," he commanded.

I looked at the meat. I looked at the crowd of wolves watching me, waiting for me to humiliate myself. I looked at Ashanti, who was watching me with pity.

I reached out with shaking hands and took the meat. It felt heavy, like lead. I put it in my mouth and chewed. It tasted like ash, but I swallowed it. I swallowed my pride. I swallowed my dignity.

"Good girl," Julian said. He patted my cheek, a gesture that felt more insulting than a slap.

He turned to the hall and raised his voice. "Tonight, we celebrate! The Silvermoon Peak is no more! Their Alpha is dead, and their Princess is my Slave!"

The room erupted in cheers and howling. The sound was deafening. It felt like it was tearing my soul apart. I stayed on my knees at Julian’s feet, the silver collar burning my neck, and watched as the people of the Blackwood Eclipse laughed and danced.

I looked at Ashanti. She was being led away again, back toward the darkness. She looked back at me one last time, and I saw the heartbreak in her eyes.

I realized then that Julian was right. He wasn't going to kill me. He was going to make me live through a nightmare every single day. He was going to use my love for my pack to chain me more tightly than any iron shackle ever could.

I leaned my head against the cold wood of the platform. I was a princess of Silvermoon. I was a warrior. But as I sat there at the feet of the man who destroyed my world.