Rosella
If there was one thing I truly hated, it was the Werewolves and the way they had turned the world upside down. According to the story passed down from my great-great-grandfather to my grandfather and then to my father, the Werewolves were the ones who had started the slave system, the rules that had defined human lives for generations.
In four words,we were their Slaves.
Depending on luck, a human could be sold into different forms of servitude: a house slave, a war slave, or a rare lucky slave who might become a werewolf's mate. The worst, however, were the sex slaves. They carried privileges that others could only dream of, yet their lives were disposable, ending whenever their masters grew tired of them.
My mother had been a house slave fortunate enough to marry my father, a war slave. When I was born, she had died, and by the time I turned fifteen, my father was gone as well. Left with nothing, I was taken by the Werewolves to their sex school, a place where humans were trained to obey and please. Unlike the others, I refused to learn, and it wasn't long before I earned the reputation of being the worst student in the class.
They had called me Rosella, the unpleasant sec slave.
Instead of learning history, math, or any subject worth knowing, we were taught how to bend to our masters' desires. We were instructed to satisfy them in every imaginable way, and I loathed every lesson.
I despised the life I was forced into, despised the way we were stripped of choice, and most of all, I hated the injustice of our existence.
And it was caused by one man who ruled the werewolf world, Alpha King Damian.
Because of my defiance and reckless attitude, I was not taken to the auction house until I was twenty-two, far beyond the usual age of nineteen when sex slaves were sold. Perhaps it was luck, though I did not feel fortunate.
When we arrived at the auction house, we were divided into two groups: the best sex slaves and the worst. The best were treated like celebrities, trained to perfection, while we, the worst, were nothing but raw, untested bodies, virgins who had spent years learning about sex in theory but knew nothing in practice.
"Strip all of you!" the auction master commanded.
Six of us obeyed, preparing to be presented to our masters.
A master I intended to kill if he dared touch me. My plan was clear: I would find the Alpha King, the one responsible for humanity's suffering, and end him.
Nothing else mattered.
I removed my dress without shame as taught in class, but covered up my small perky breasts with my hands as we were pushed toward the stage. My stomach churned with disgust as I noticed the murmurs, the hungry eyes fixated on me in the dim light.
"Disgusting perverts," I cursed under my breath, my body burning with both shame and anger.
I hated being there.
"These are the least experienced humans for sale. They cannot give you the pleasures you desire, but they can serve you," the auctioneer announced.
His voice grated on my nerves, and if I weren't covering my body, I would have lunged to snatch the microphone from him.
As I contemplated how to end him, I was shoved forward and nearly fell, but strong arms steadied me. I lifted my hands from my chest, gripping the man who had caught me by the waist.
His eyes were the color of the ocean, piercing and hypnotic, framed by silver-ombre hair that curled perfectly, giving him a dangerous, untouchable look. His sharp jawline and commanding presence made my pulse stutter, and though I longed to reach out and touch him but I could not risk it.
Werewolves hated being touched unless allowed.
His gaze roamed over me, tracing the curve of my breasts and lower, and my body reacted against my will. Desire flared where I wanted to resist. My resolve was tested, yet I shoved him away with all my strength, fixing my eyes on the open entrance that offered a fleeting chance at escape.
Freedom.
A fleeting thought of escape swept through me, but I knew the cost. If caught, I would be executed, beheaded, and my chance to kill the man who started the slave system would be lost.
"She has pushed a master away!" the auctioneer shouted, pointing directly at me.
I barely registered that the blue-eyed man was on the floor until two bulky men appeared behind me, shoving me onto the stage. One grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall, choking me while waiting for orders.
"She has disrespected a master," the auctioneer yelled, his finger indicating the man who had saved me, who now stood and fixed his piercing gaze on mine.
Right, he found pleasure in my suffering.
"What shall we do to such a slave?" the auctioneer demanded.
"Kill her!" the crowd chanted in unison, their disregard for human life evident in their tones.
"What kind of death?" he pressed further.
"Beheading!" the crowd screamed again.
I clenched my teeth, anger and fear boiling inside me, but I dared not defy them openly as I lay sprawled on the stage, exhausted from the struggle. Before I could catch my breath, the two men returned to drag me behind the stage, only to be stopped by a sharp, hoarse voice.
"Let her go at once, or you lose your hands!" the blue-eyed man shouted. "Release her now if you value your own lives!"
Who was this man? I wondered as I looked towards him. Werewolves were supposed to be cruel, merciless creatures, yet he had intervened.
"And who are you?" the auctioneer demanded.
The man did not reply immediately. In a blink, he was before me, yanking the arms of the bulky men off of mine. I landed in his arms, holding on to him instinctively. He draped a black suit over me, covering my body and preserving some dignity amidst the chaos.
"Thank you," I whispered, relief flooding me.
"I asked who you are!" the auctioneer shouted. "Even as a VIP, you cannot do this!"
"I cannot do it?" he retorted, flinging the auctioneer across the room with a speed and force that left me breathless. The man's actions were brutal, unyielding, and astonishing and I couldn't helped but wonder how someone could move that fast.
Blood spattered as the auctioneer hit the walls and Murmurs from the werewolves filled the room.
"Who is he?" someone whispered.
"How dare he defy the law?"
I wanted to reach out, afraid he would die because of me. Though masked man Seemed to be a VIP bidder, he had broken the Werewolf law, and punishment meant death.
Two men lunged at him, and I quickly covered my eyes not strong enough to witness his death then suddenly his voice resounded in the room. "I am the alpha king!" He announced. "You have touched what is mine," he said in a deep possessive tone.
The Alpha King? I couldn't believe what I had heard.
My eyes shot open as I looked at the man who had saved me. My greatest enemy, the one responsible for the ruin of countless human lives, now stood before me.
Alpha King Damian, the Demon Alpha.