Chapter 4
1128 Words
Kylen
“We’ve had no luck getting to the bottom of that rogue attack that happened on the edge of our borders last week.” My beta sighed next to me. “It’s getting way too out of hand, we have to do something about it.”
I tossed an apple back and forth between my hands, my gaze focused on his head.
We were sitting outside, just the two of us. Trying to resolve some pack issues without any unwanted ears.
But I was distracted.
Alora sat on the ground with a small group of maids. It baffled me the number of friends she had made in her short stay here, regardless of the fact that she was a weak little thing. A rank-less omega with a deadbeat father, she still had a way about her that attracted people like a f*****g magnet.
I had no idea what they were talking about, but she threw her head back with a genuine laugh. Her full pink lips spread to release the sound.
I bit into my apple.
She was barely wearing any clothing.
"Call me whatever you want, but I don’t waste the opportunity."
My eyes trailed up her bare legs, stopping where her knees were pressed tightly together, so as not to accidentally flash someone.
A sick part of me wondered if she was wearing any underwear.
Another bite.
“Are you even listening to me?”
I cut my eyes to my beta. He was staring at me expectantly, like he'd said something important and is waiting for me to give him an answer.
My eyes drifted back to Alora. “What did you say?”
He sighed. “I asked if you have any leads that I’m not aware of.”
I shook my head in refusal. She was standing now.
The harsh wind burrowed in her direction. The oversized shirt she was wearing barely reached mid thigh, and the desperate way she tugged at them made me strongly believe there was really nothing underneath that shirt.
The outside breeze made the cotton cling onto her lush curves. She was a tiny little thing alright, but she’s perfect in all the right places.
Even from this distance, I could see her pebbled n*****s through the loose fabric.
My c**k hardened.
I took another bite.
I recalled back to her report session the other day. She told me she isn’t having any trouble with any of the prisoners, which is highly unusual. The men I had in those cells were not short of barbarians. Yet she tells me they treat her with respect while she works.
I barely paid attention to a thing she said though. Unnaturally, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.
She was only nineteen, but she had the body of a stripper. And it doesn’t help that she pranced around my house wearing next to nothing.
The thought hardened my jaw.
I made a mental note to have one of the maids arrange more decent clothing for her.
But that sick part of me, wished I could only have her wear this. The problem is, I’d want her for my eyes alone.
I hated the fact that I found myself looking forward to her report sessions. She was supposed to be just like any other slave in this house. Matter of fact, she was supposed to be less than them.
I didn’t give her this job because she deserved it, not because she needed it. I did it to teach her old man a lesson. The bastard was a walking time bomb, and he just happened to cross the wrong man.
I should have killed him when I had the chance.
Part of me still wonders why I didn’t. That same part of me pretends not to know why.
Watching Alora beg, cry out, all for the sake of the old geezers life, broke my resolve.
Her eyes met mine from across the yard. Instantly, all the warmth in her stare vanished. She lifted a defiant chin.
I fought for a smile.
She might be a tiny little thing, but she’s not one to just sit down and take it. She’s got the kind of backbone some of my men lack.
Nothing about her should fascinate me. Nothing about her should make me curious.
Yet…
She broke my stare, turning and walking back into the pack house. Reluctantly, I tore my gaze away from the sight of her swaying backside.
Later that evening, I was strolling through the garden, trying to get my thoughts together.
There was a rogue attack outside my border. Way too close to be a coincidence. It was close, but not close enough. No one got hurt.
But they’ve been happening more frequently, and it bothers me.
Next time it happens, we might not be so lucky.
Muffled voices reached my ears.
“Let go of me!”
“You know what? You’re such tease, and I’ve had enough of your bullshit.”
The metal of a belt clanged, followed by the sound of a dull thud.
“Get off me!” A soft voice yelled.
I know that voice.
“I’m gonna give you what you’ve been asking for you little b***h! It’s been a long time coming.”
“I’ll scream!” Alora yelled.
“Go right ahead, Wells. I’ll knock your f*****g teeth out.”
“Please don’t do this.” She switched to begging.
“Shut up!” The man growled.
Another thud, a soft whimper. I picked up my pace.
A zipper cuts through the air. Then I heard shuffling.
“Get back here-”
A muffled crack, and then a roar of pain, “You f*****g b***h!”
Alora screamed.
Footsteps approached the shuffle, “What the hell’s going on here?”
“The b***h attacked me!”
“That’s not true!” Alora insisted. “He-”
“Enough!” I cut through the crowd. A dozen guards stood between Alora and Aiden, my head guard. His face was pale when he caught sight of me.
“What happened here?” The ferocity of my growl surprised even me.
Aiden stands straighter, lightly puffing out his chest. “This slave attacked me sir.”
“Is that so?” My eyes trailed over his form, darkening the second they landed on his undone pants.
He swallowed.
I grabbed Alora’s arm, she was white as a ghost as I pulled her away from the crowd.
Focusing my gaze on Aiden, I narrowed my eyes, “You’ll be dealt with later.”
I tightened my grip on Alora’s arm, heading into the pack house.
“What are you doing?” She whispered
I didn't look at her, for some reason, I just couldn't.
- Writer
