The Blackfang Alphas and Slaves

Chapter 19

LIRA

Today is the day I die, and the thought doesn't even scare me as much as the throbbing in my ribs does.

My body is a roadmap of agony, covered in bruises and open cuts from the endless sessions with the whip, and every time I try to shift my weight, a fresh wave of pain rolls through my joints. I am hanging from the wall of this damp dungeon, my hands chained far apart so my chest is forced forward, and my feet are barely touching the cold stone floor. It is a position designed to break your spirit before they even take you to the chopping block, and I have been hanging here so long I can’t even feel my fingers anymore.

The heavy iron door at the end of the hall creaked open, and I heard the familiar footsteps of a guard approaching my cell. He stopped in front of the bars, his face partially hidden by the corridor, and he looked at me with a mixture of pity and boredom.

"The Alpha says you can have one last meal," the guard said, his voice echoing in the small space.

"Whatever you want. Meat, bread, wine... just say the word and I’ll bring it down."

I pulled my head up, my neck muscles screaming at the movement, and I looked him right in the eye through the matted hair covering my face. My throat was dry, and my stomach had been empty for days, but the idea of eating anything while I waited for the executioner felt disgusting.

"I don't want your food," I croaked, my voice sounding like sandpaper. "Just get out of here. I want to spend my last few hours in silence and peace, not looking at your ugly face."

The guard didn't even look offended. He just shrugged, turned on his heel, and walked back the way he came, the heavy door slamming shut behind him with a finality that made my heart skip a beat. I let my head fall back down, closing my eyes and trying to ignore the smell of rot and dampness, but I only had a few minutes of quiet before the door opened again.

I felt a surge of annoyance, thinking the guard had come back to pester me about the meal or tell me it was time to leave. I was about to snap at him to leave me the hell alone, but I stopped when a scent hit me.

It was a familiar, musky smell that I would recognize even if I were blind and deaf. It was wood smoke and cold iron, the scent of the man who had owned my life for years. It was Rhodes.

I slowly raised my head, my eyes straining to adjust to the light of the torch he was carrying. He was standing just outside the cell bars, and for a second, time seemed to freeze. He looked exactly the same as he did years ago, his muscular figure still imposing and powerful, and it seemed like time hadn't managed to touch him at all apart from a few new lines around his eyes. He stood there with his arms crossed, looking at me like I was a piece of meat he was deciding whether to keep or throw away.

My eyes started to glaze over as the memories came rushing back, hitting me harder than any whip could.

I remembered the first time we met, and the irony of it almost made me want to laugh. We were in a prison back then too, and our eyes had locked in the exact same way they were now. That night had ended with him taking me to his bed, claiming my body by force, and that act had led to me getting pregnant and giving him the heir he wanted so badly. I smiled to myself, a bitter, mocking little twist of my lips, because it was just so laughable. The scene was repeating itself, the same two people in the same dark hole, only this time I wasn't being taken to his bed. I was being taken to my death.

Rhodes didn't move, and he didn't smile back. I looked at his eyes and saw nothing but a cold, hard detachment. He didn't look like a man visiting the mother of his child, he looked like a judge watching a criminal. He no longer saw me as a living being with feelings or a history, he just saw a problem that needed to be erased so the pack could move on.

Finally, I couldn't take the silence anymore. I needed to know if any of it had meant something, or if I had just been a fool for thinking a slave could ever be loved by a monster.

"Was it even real?" I asked, my voice cracking and breaking as I struggled to get the words out. "Our time together... did you ever actually feel anything for me, Rhodes? Or was your reputation and the purity of your pack always the only thing that mattered to you?"

I saw a flash of something in his eyes, a spark of anger that moved faster than I could track. Before I could even finish my sentence, he moved. He didn't use a key or call a guard, he just reached through the bars with a speed that was purely lupine. A resounding slap filled the dungeon, the force of his hand hitting my face so hard it sent my head snapping to the side and made my teeth rattle in my skull.

I felt something pop in my jaw, and a sudden, hot spray of blood filled my mouth. I coughed, spitting a mess of red and a couple of broken teeth onto the stone floor at his feet. My vision swam with black spots, and the world tilted on its axis, but I could still hear his voice. It was cold, sharp, and completely devoid of the warmth he used to fake when we were alone.

"How dare you," Rhodes said, his voice a low growl that vibrated through the floor. "How dare you speak to me about love or reputation after what you’ve done? You are a slave who forgot her place, Lira. You opened your legs for anyone who asked and thought you could hide your promiscuity behind my name. You aren't a victim, you're a stain on this pack, and I am finally going to wash it away.”