Slave To The Vengeful Alpha King

His Plaything, His Prisoner

Reina's POV

“W-what is this? I can't wear—” My voice barely rose above a whisper.

It was bad enough that King William had summoned me in the middle of the night. I had to wear a crimson gossamer shift—scandalously sheer, exposing every curve of my frame.

"No," I whispered as I stared at the dress. "I won’t wear this."

"You will because you aren't a princess anymore. Only royals make demands and you aren't one." Agatha replied with spite. "Unless you’d rather walk in there with nothing at all.”

The meaning hung thick in the air. Tears welled up in my eyes as I wore it over my bruised body.

“Hurry along now,” the woman said, her voice void of any emotion. “The king doesn’t do well with lateness—especially on your first night. You certainly do not want to experience his anger.” Her words hung in the air, and something unreadable flashed across her eyes.

I swallowed, knots forming in my throat. I didn’t ask what she meant. I didn’t want to know. But one question was etched in my mind.

“What about my people?” I asked, my voice breaking. I had heard nothing. Seen nothing. Were they slaves too? Or had they been…?

I let out a small gasp, hoping it wasn’t like that.

She smirked. “You should worry less about them and more about yourself.”

I swallowed and didn’t say anything again.

Pushing my racing thoughts aside, I forced myself to move before I stopped.

“But… I-I don’t know where… to go,” I said, my voice low.

She rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “Come.”

I followed her as fast into the cold night. Each step felt like I was walking to my death and the air was heavy with dread. As we moved through the hallway, I could feel eyes on me. Servants and guards lined the halls—silent, judgmental eyes like embers, filled with nothing but pure disgust and hatred burned into my skin.

“She deserves the stake,” one muttered.

“If I were the king, I’d have tied her to the pole and burnt her alive,” another maid said with so much hatred in her voice.

Their words sliced into me like knives, but I kept my head high. I wouldn’t let them see my pain. Just a night in the dungeon had taught me that no one cared that I wasn’t my father. They only cared about making me suffer for his sins.

Then she stopped abruptly by a corner, turning to acknowledge me.

“There.” She pointed towards the double doors ahead. “Go in there.”

My mouth went dry. I stared at the door, my heart racing. Behind those doors was my fate.

“Th-thank you,” I said, but she had already turned and walked away.

I was alone. Forcing down the fear clawing at my throat, I stepped forward and pushed open the heavy doors.Darkness greeted me and a damp, suffocating cold wrapped around my body, seeping into my bones. The room was made of stone, the air thick with something rancid.

Then I realized—this wasn’t a chamber. It was a dungeon.Panic flared in my chest, stealing my breath.

My stomach twisted, and bile rose to my throat. I wasn’t just here to meet him. I was here to be punished.

A harsh voice sliced through the thick air.

“Shut the door behind you!”

I froze. The command was curt, unforgiving. It ran down my spine like ice. I turned, my breath catching in my throat as my eyes landed on him.

He was standing in the center of the room, tall and commanding, his eyes brimming with something twisted.

Hate. Loathing. Disgust.

I quickly looked away, unable to stand the intensity of his hateful gaze.

“Take your dress off.”

“I…” I started, but my words failed me.

The dress already made me feel exposed, but now he wanted me to take it all off?

“Will, please—“

“Now!” His voice cut through the air like a sharp knife. A suffocating silence followed, and I swallowed nervously.His cold, empty eyes met with mine, and he smirked, the jagged scar across his face making him look even scarier.

I balled my hands into fists, fighting the burn of my tears. “Y-yes,” I whispered.

His eyes darkened. “Yes what?”

I swallowed hard, bile rising in my throat.

“Yes, m-my L-Lord.”

I had heard people address my father using that word and I never ever imagined that I would ever be in this state. Angry tears filled my eyes, I hated how that word sounded in my mouth, I hated how demeaning it was.My hands quickly got to work, and I pulled off my cloth. It pooled at my feet, leaving me bare as a shiver ran down my spine as the cold air kissed my skin.

Shamed filled me up as hot tears rolled down my face.

“Good.” He took a step forward, and I fought the urge to turn around and run. Picking a red blindfold, he covered my eyes and I muffled a terrified sound.

“Please…”

His fingers trailed down my throat, over the curve of my breast, before pinching my hardened n*****s between his thumb and forefinger. He grabbed me roughly, his grip punishing, and my body betrayed me—a strangled moan tore from my throat before I could stop it.

His hand trailed down my body to my chest, cupping my breast in his hand.

He squeezed them gently and I flinched as a moan slipped past my lips, heat spreading all over. Pinching my n****e roughly, he twisted it painfully and the heat that had flared inside me turned into agony.

I cried out, my body jerking away from him, but there was nowhere to go. Tugging at my n****e, he pinched me so hard and hot tears flowed down my cheeks just as pain radiated through my bruised limbs, settling deep into my bones.

“I will break you so bad,” he muttered. “Until you crave pain.” His fingers twisted painfully, making me wince.

“I will do everything that your father did to me and my people.” His hands trailed lower, pressing against me in a way that made my stomach twist. “And worse.”

Fear gripped me.

I had no idea how far my father had gone in torturing his people but the look in his cold and empty eyes was enough to tell me that whatever he had planned for me would not be anything good.

I swallowed hard, scared that he was going to take me. Heat coiled low in my stomach as his other hand slid down my stomach, lower and lower until his fingers brushed over my most private place. My body tensed and I pressed my thighs together instinctively.

“S-spare me…”

His grip on my hair tightened, but just enough to make me gasp. This was far from how I had envisaged our first time together.

“Did your father listen to my people when they begged?” His voice was cold and void of any remorse. “Did he listen when we told him to stop? Did he listen when children cried?”

I am not my father. I didn’t hurt you.

I wanted to scream those words badly, but I couldn’t. Tears burned in my eyes as I fisted my hands by my side, hoping to disappear or sink into the cold floor. But, I couldn’t, I was still there. And, so was he.

“Why?” I asked, my voice cracking.

A sharp slap landed between my thighs, making me cry out.

“Shut up!” He said coldly. “You do not get to question me.”

“I-I don’t…”

“Your father murdered my pregnant wife, wiped out my people and then took us as slaves. Do you know what he did when we begged? He whipped us. Raped us. Tortured us. Killed us.” His voice was low, deadly, and dangerous.

He had a wife? And she was pregnant? Had my father done all of that? Tears burned at the back of my eyes.

“For the last twelve years, I waited patiently for the day of my revenge, and do you know the most annoying thing?” He asked, and I shook my head.

He pinched me again, and I let out a sharp intake of breath “Your father ran away before I could get to him to pay for all the pain he rained upon us. Till my men find him, your body would be my plaything.”

A shiver ran down my spine, and I swallowed in fear.

“I will find your father and pay him back in his own coin, but I am not sure your body can withstand the torture I plan to inflict on you, princess. So you had better pray for your damned papa to come out of his hiding place.”

My eyes stung with tears as his words echoed in my head. Why did my father have to be such a cruel beast?

“Turn around!”

Heat coiled low in my stomach as I turned around.

He shoved his knee between my legs and forced them apart.

The tip of his c**k nudged against my clit, causing my hips to buck instinctively. I tried to squirm away from him, but he pressed forward again, pinning my body down beneath him. His weight crushed me deeper and I bit down on the inside of my lip so as not to scream out loud. Tears streamed down my face as he kept thrusting violently into me. The room started spinning around me, my vision blurred and black spots invaded my vision.

His thumb found my clit, rubbing in slow, torturous circles. My body writhed in pain as he plunged into me without mercy. My thighs were shaking, my p***y aching, my stomach rolling and churning uncontrollably. He was too big, too hard, too much, too much—

All of a sudden, he stopped.

“Get out!” He spat, his voice filled with disgust as he turned away without a backward glance at me.

A tear slid down my face, and my heart broke. For the first time since I had been captured, I felt something worse than pain—I felt worse than a w***e as one question settled in my mind. I knew he hated me so why didn't he finish up?

Almost immediately a guard knocked and rushed in after he gave the command.

"Your Majesty! The scouts found her."

"Who?"

“Brianna.”

Refusing to cry in front of him, I ran out of the dungeon and back to my cell. I sat huddled up in a corner and before I could stop it a sob broke past my lips ripping me apart and I couldn't help but wonder what had happened between our fathers to make the friendship between them turn this bad. Almost immediately two guards walked into the cold cell with a tray of food and some new towels and handed it over to me.

“I ha-hate you all!” I stuttered as more hot tears streamed down my face. “Your king belongs in hell!”

Yanking my hair hard the tall guard hissed “For uttering such words, you will go hungry tonight. After all, we went weeks without food in your father's dungeon.”

More tears threatened to fall as the other guard withdrew the tray. I wriggled in pain but he ignored my discomfort.

“Did the king plant five men to rape you on your birthday? Did he whip you while he plunged into your body at the same time?”

I widened my eyes in horror, as my stomach churned.

“From the look of things the king didn't even touch you tonight unlike your evil father who roasted his private parts the very first night he took us in captivity! You do not get to throw temper tantrums around when your father was much worse.” He spat the words at me with so much venom.

“I'm so-sorry.” Hearing all the torment my father inflicted on them, I wondered if these people would ever treat me well unlike–

“Do not patronise me.” He lashed out at me. “You had better eat and brace up for much more pain. You’ll need strength because you haven't even met the King's Concubine Lady Patricia.”

He let out a scoff and with that he turned around. Then when he got to the exit and spoke without looking back at me. “And all these should be the least of your worries.”

I frowned. “W-what do you mean?”

“Let's go James. “ The other guard signaled to him.

“You’ll be having your slave premiere in a few days and you should know what that means. And then after that, if the king chooses to pass you around to us, we will take turns with you like your monstrous father did with my sisters!” With that, he and the other guard locked the cell after them leaving bile burning inside me.

A low gasp slid through my lips and goosebumps pricked my skin as beads of sweat dotted my forehead. When I was sixteen, I overheard two concubines whispering about a “slave premiere.” Back then, I hadn't understood what it meant—only that the slaves who participated never returned the same.

My hands trembled as bile rose to my throat. What would they do to me? How many kings would have s*x with me? This was far from how I imagined my first time with my charming prince. Pulling my knees to my chest, I burst into tears.

A metallic clank echoed through the cell as heavy footsteps approached. The cell door opened and my blood turned to ice when I saw who was standing there.

Not a guard.

But her.

Lady Patricia.

It didn't take too long to identify her as she was dressed in rich gowns and two maids stood behind her. Her lips curled into a smirk as she tapped her nails against the iron bars. Her eyes gleamed with cruel amusement.

“My, my…” she cooed. “The princess looks so fragile. I do hope you last long enough. It would be such a shame if you break too soon.”

My stomach twisted. A sick feeling settled deep in my gut as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“The king may want to take his time with you, but I? I have no such patience.” A slow and venomous smile curled on her lips. "I will ruin you.”

She grinned, and in that moment, I realized something—the king wasn’t the only monster in this castle.

I wasn’t just fighting to survive him.

I had to survive her.