ELITH
There was a reason why every female of the werewolf world was scared of being sold as a breeder slave. Everything I knew about the Lycan King was utterly terrifying.
Correction––everything I knew about lycans was terrifying.
Born stronger than other shifters, lycans always boasted power over everyone else. Their blood was potent, their strength was unmatched, but what gave them an even bigger advantage was their age.
Lycans could live for hundreds of years, expanding their lands and cultivating their powers without the restraint that other shifters faced.
And that was precisely why their land was called a kingdom, and their leader was a king. No one else could dare assume such a prominent title but the lycans. They were truly the kings of all the shifters.
But longevity sure came with a price.
Due to their long lifespan, it was a lot harder for lycans to find a mate, and even more so––to procreate. That was how the concept of breeders came to life.
Regular wolves were obligated to provide females as breeders for lycans in order to help them reproduce. No pack would dare refuse, as rejecting such an order meant a complete annihilation of the entire pack.
But while being a breeder was a dreadful fate to bear, being selected as a mating candidate for the King was akin to a death sentence to many.
Because the royal lycans were cursed.
Many centuries ago, they went against the Moon Goddess's wishes and defied their fate, which resulted in a dreadful feud between lycans and the Moon Goddess.
As a punishment for their challenging her reign, she put a curse on every lycan of the royal blood, condemning them to slowly descend into madness should they fail to find a mate and create a divine bond.
And today, King Magnus Draxx, was the second ruler in the history of the kingdom, who failed to form a bond and was already known to have gone mad.
I was supposed to be presented to him tonight, but now...
"Where can I find her?" I asked as I grabbed Matilda's shoulders, my eyes frantically running over her confused face. "Well? Where is she?!"
"Calm down!" Matilda hissed, slapping my hands away from her shoulders. "As a breeder slave, she has her own room and right now, Clarissa, the head maid of this mansion, is preparing her for the duties she must perform."
"Where is her room then?" I insisted, rushing to the door, ready to dash out. "I need to see her right now!"
"It's on the second floor, but you are not allowed there, you know? Mere slaves like us can't go between the floors without permission!"
Matilda kept talking to me, but I was no longer listening. My feet moved on their own, and before I knew it, I was running down an unfamiliar hallway, stumbling over the stairs, and crashing against unexpected turns and corners.
I didn't know what I wanted to do, but one thing was crystal clear––I couldn't let Amy meet the King. I couldn't let her suffer in my place.
I was about to round another corner leading further into a dimly-lit hall when suddenly, something caught me by the collar of my jacket, and I was lifted upward, dangling like a helpless kitten.
"And where do you think you're going?"
I gasped, taken aback by the sight in front of my eyes. It was a tall, well-built man who couldn't be older than thirty, with long black hair flowing smoothly all the way down to his waist. His face was overwhelmingly handsome, but his deep, golden eyes were marred with something unreadable, and the more he looked at me, the more paralyzed I felt.
"I––I," I stuttered, struggling to come up with anything even slightly comprehensive. "I'm looking for my... mistress. Amy Wayne."
"Ah," the man smirked, a spark of danger flashing in his eyes. "The new breeder candidate. You must be her personal servant."
I nodded, and he leaned closer as if to take a better look at me.
"How peculiar," he said in a thoughtful tone, "I haven't heard about female wolves having a male servant before. What are you––her secret lover or something?"
"It's none of your business!" I retorted, feeling strangely brave even though I was still dangling in the air. "I need to see her! Right now!"
"Ha!" The man exclaimed, tightening his grip on my collar, which only made me feel even more uncomfortable. "What is your name?"
"El––Elith."
"Well, Elith," he snarled, his golden eyes shining with something even more dangerous now. "I don't know how things were going for you back in your pack, but here, little runts like you do not order around the royal beasts. Am I making myself clear?"
"Royal beasts..?" I swallowed hard, my blood running cold in my veins. Could he be..?
"No, I'm not him," he replied as if he could read my mind. "I'm Raiden Draxx, the King's younger brother."
"Oh..." was the only thing I managed, taken completely off guard by this revelation. "I'm––I'm sorry..."
"I'm sorry, Alpha Raiden," he corrected, his lips stretching into a wide grin.
"I'm sorry, Alpha Raiden."
"Alright," Raiden concluded, finally putting me back on my feet. I nearly fell the very moment my feet touched the floor––I was so shocked and frightened, it was a miracle I could stand at all.
"I'll let you see your mistress," he added, clearly enjoying my crumbled state. "After all, it would be cruel not to, considering her life might very well end today."
"Thank you––" I was so happy for a moment that I didn't pay much attention to the second part of his statement. However, once the words sank in, my heart plummeted, and I almost melted onto the floor once again. "Her life might... what?"