SAMANTHA
I never imagined that Darlington would save me.
I shot him a look of surprise. My eyes wide and my mouth slightly open. He met my gaze for just a moment, then looked away, his expression unreadable. In that moment, he seemed like he was born to different parents. Like he was cut from a different cloth than his brothers.
It was hard to believe that he shared the same bloodline as the merciless brute named Jayce.
Still, even with Darlington's testimony, King Lionel found it hard to believe me. His face was troubled. His eyes moved between me and Molly like he was trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces.
His gaze became hard as he turned to Molly.
"So," he said slowly. His voice was quiet but it filled the entire hall. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
His presence bore down on her so hard I could almost see the weight of it. Molly bit her lower lip. Her face reddened with fear. She refused to meet his eyes. Her gaze stayed fixed on the floor, on the walls, anywhere but on the king.
"Answer me," King Lionel demanded.
Molly's lips moved. No sound came out.
King Lionel shook his head. His disappointment was very apparent. It radiated from him like heat from a fire.
"Fool," he said. The word landed like a slap. "If these women will bear the next generation of princes and pups, you have to learn to control your jealousy." He leaned forward on his throne. "Can you do it alone? Can you carry the royal bloodline alone? Can you give me twenty grandchildren by yourself?"
Molly trembled. Her whole body shook. She had been called a fool by the King. In front of everyone. In front of the other slaves. In front of the triplets and in front of the guards.
Blood left her face. She looked pale, ill and humiliated.
I watched the scene unfold with something that felt like grace settling over my shoulders. Molly looked at me. Her eyes were filled with so much hatred. So much malice. If glances could kill, I would have dropped dead right there.
I held her gaze and did not look away.
I had tolerated Molly before. I had swallowed her insults and I had turned the other cheek. But since she suggested I should be cast out to live like a rogue—since she tried to have me branded and exiled—me and her had become forever enemies.
I made a vow in that moment. Standing naked behind a stranger, with tears dried on my face and my heart still pounding.
I will never show weakness again. I will never tolerate cruelty again. I need to make her understand that I am not an easy target.
Then, she will consider not crossing me again.
After cautioning Molly, the king turned to face all of us. His expression softened.
"Don't relent," he said, his voice reassuring. "As long as you bring new life into this world, you will be rewarded handsomely. Twenty million dollars for each son. Remember that. Let that be your motivation when the days are hard."
The women's murmurs died down. They listened and they nodded. Some of them were already calculating how many children they could have.
"Take them away," the king said, waving his hand toward Daisy. "I have seen enough for today."
He did not mention anything about punishing me.
He did not order me flogged. He did not throw me out and he did not brand me a rogue.
I shot a grateful glance at Darlington as I turned to leave. He was already looking away, talking quietly to Finnian. But I saw the corner of his mouth twitch just a little.
He knows I looked at him and he knows I am grateful.
On the way back to the slave quarters, the women chatted loudly. The tension of the morning was finally breaking.
"Did you see the King?" one of them said, fanning herself with her hand. "He is so handsome. Even for his age."
"Forget the princes," another woman added, laughing. "I want the King. Twenty million dollars AND a silver fox? Yes, please."
More laughter.
"His eyes are so intense," a third woman said dreamily. "Imagine him looking at you like that in bed."
"Or on the throne," someone else whispered, and the group erupted in giggles.
I walked in silence. I did not join their laughter. I did not share their fantasies. My mind was still in the hall. Still on Darlington's voice. Still on Molly's hatred.
"Enough!" Daisy Bond's voice cracked through the air like a whip. "Quiet down! All of you!"
The women fell silent immediately.
We had reached the entrance of our quarters. The building loomed before us, grey stone and iron bars, a prettier name for a prison.
Daisy turned to face us. Her expression was tired. Irritated. She had been caught in a lie today and she knew that I knew. She would not look at me directly.
"Take a break, everyone," Daisy announced. "Training for the girls will begin tomorrow. I will send out a timetable. Be ready. Be early. Behave yourselves."
She turned and walked away without another word.
The women dispersed slowly. Some went to their rooms. Some gathered in small groups to gossip. Some just stood there, staring at nothing, lost in their own thoughts.
I lingered at the entrance.
Training?
What training?
No one had mentioned training before. Not when we arrived. Not during the inspection. Not once.
I looked around at the other women. Some of them looked confused too. Others looked nervous. A few—the ones who had been here longer—looked resigned. Like they knew what was coming and had already made peace with it.
"What kind of training?" I asked no one in particular.
A woman nearby—Hayley, I remembered—turned to look at me. She looked older than the rest of us. She had been here before and she knew things.
"Physical training," Hayley said quietly. "To strengthen your body. To prepare you for... carrying." She paused. "Not every woman survives the pregnancy. The training is supposed to help."
My stomach turned.
"Survive?" I whispered.
Hayley nodded. Her eyes were sad. "The triplets are Lycan, child. Their children are... strong. Too strong for some bodies. The training weeds out the weak ones."