Daughter of the moon

Chapter 1

I mustn't break; he was just waiting for me to make a mistake so he could punish me again. How many times had I been beaten? I'd lost count. Constantly starved, deprived of food, or else it was sold to me at a price I refused to pay.

Tonight, there were guests at the estate. I'd been told that the heir, the future Alpha king, was one of them, and that he tolerated mistakes even less than the master of the estate. That if I made a mistake, he would show no mercy to this wolf less creature that I am.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. As always when I thought the moon goddess had deprived me of my wolf, a lump formed in my throat, and I breathed harder. Why, O Goddess, do you deprive me of my only chance to escape this hell? If my wolf were present, I could run away and live as a vagabond, living off my hunting, but no, I had nothing. I was forced to take vitamins to awaken my wolf, because, not having a wolf, even as a slave, was a disgrace to a people, but nothing helped. So, I became the lord of the domain's whipping girl. Any excuse was good enough to beat me, to whip me, to starve me, whether I made a mistake or not. The punishment was only greater if I had truly sinned.

I made an effort to return to the present moment and tried to calm the trembling in my hands. I felt so weak. Ten lashes and forty-eight hours without food—that was my final punishment for dropping an apple on the ground. I tried to remember the rules: never look anyone in the eye, never speak unless addressed directly. But who would speak to me, a slave, a nobody?

I peered through the window in the doorway into the hall, hoping to spot the heir. If I stayed away from him, perhaps he wouldn't even notice me, but what was the point? No one really knew what he looked like, so it was difficult to locate him. I decided to stay as far away from the lord of the manor as possible, since surely the guest of honor would be with him, wouldn't he?

Darcy: Have you heard the news?

It was one of the servants who had just spoken, Darcy, I think. I knew she wasn't talking to me; no one really talked to me. To them, I was nothing. She was probably talking to Tory, her best friend.

Tory: No, what?

Darcy: It seems the heir is here because he's looking for his mate!

Tory: Really?

I could hear the excitement in their voices. Becoming the heir's mate would be the greatest honor for any she-wolf.

Tory: What I wish I were the one he’s looking for,

Tory imagined.

Tory: Instead of working to serve people, I would be the ones fulfilling my every desire. A dream comes true.

I suppressed a smile; it wasn’t the time to draw attention to myself. But I found it ridiculous that this girl’s dream was to be waited on while all I dreamed of was freedom.

I pushed to open the swinging door and quietly entered the noisy, overcrowded room. My task was to collect the used dishes and wash them in the kitchen, all without making a sound, without breaking anything, without disturbing anyone—in short, to act quickly and discreetly. But alas, I felt so weak, so dizzy, that it was simply impossible for me to be fast. I felt puny, and it took a lot of energy just to walk straight.

I stopped in my tracks and took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. Then I felt a tingling at the nape of my neck. I had the feeling someone was watching me. Probably the master, searching for a new torture to inflict upon me. I clenched my fists and started moving forward again. I mustn't stop, mustn't give him a reason; that had become my mantra. A scent captivated my senses, like a coniferous forest on a spring morning. The scent was drawing closer to me, or me to it, I can't remember. I was in a trance. All I know is that I collided head-on with a perfectly sculpted man. I felt like I bounced off him and would surely have fallen if he hadn't caught me. I could hear him breathing deeply, as if he were trying to smell my wolf. I wanted to tell him not to waste any time; I didn't have any, but I had been forbidden to speak.

The man kept his large hands in my arms, caressing them up and down. He said nothing, and I didn't dare look at him.

Alpha Thompson: My lord knight, please excuse my slave. Rest assured, she will be duly punished for this affront.

I stiffened in the man's arms. I had just recognized the nasal voice of my lord and master, my tormentor, Thomson.

Man: Slave?

Oh, wretched Goddess of the Moon, what a magnificent voice—deep, resonant, sensual. It sent shivers down my spine. He tightened his embrace as if to infuse me with his warmth.

Alpha Thompson: Yes, my lord.

Man: Then sell her to me!

What? Oh, good heavens. My breathing quickened, and the man's scent rose to my head. I felt myself weakening; he must have sensed it too, for he placed one of his large hands in the small of my back and with his other, he traced imaginary circles on my back.

Alpha Thompson: But sir, she's a nobody, a good-for-nothing. I'm keeping her out of sheer pity.

I felt the man stiffen against me. Would he do as everyone else did and turn away? I wouldn't have held it against him; nobody wanted me…

Man: Then you wouldn't mind letting her go with me, since it will allow you to get rid of her!

The man's scent enveloped me completely now, a musky, fresh fragrance that intoxicated me, accompanied by subtle caresses on my back. Not once did he loosen the grip of his arms around me, keeping me captive.