Joining The Lycan King's Harem

Chapter1

Chapter 1

"And I, the alpha of the Frostmaw Tribe, hereby declare that as soon as the orphan Elara Winters turns eighteen, she will become the property of Sir Joffery Varric, the high commander of our pack. To do with her as he pleases," Alpha Marcus declared. The sixty-year-old Sir Joffery in question smiled, a nasty lustful smile towards the young waif of a she-wolf, who was still only a teenager. Elara winters.

They were all gathered here on the pack house grounds to celebrate Sir Joffery's 13th victory. The whole pack. And everyone from the orphanage where Elara now lived was asked to be present here too.

A hundred people stood around her. The whole pack, in fact, listening silently. No one spoke. Not her friends, not even one of the elders. No one spoke on her behalf. No one said that this was wrong. That Elara didn't want to be the property of that man.

She shook like a leaf about to fall on the ground, with shock, disbelief, and pain of injustice. She was to be treated like livestock, to be handed over like a commodity to that lusty, dirty old man. Elara knew Joffery, knew how he had r***d that she-wolf just weeks ago, in the compartment behind his truck in broad daylight. One of his men had dragged that girl from the street as she had cried and screamed right into the truck parked in the alley behind the town hall, right in front of 20 eyewitnesses. And no one had come to help. Not even a single sound had come out of any of them, as the girls' screams had been muffled, but they were still heard in the middle of the day, and no one had said a single word about it.

"He had mounted her in his wolf form. Apparently, he likes to do that with young she-wolves." She had heard from one of the healers of the pack, talking among themselves, disgust clear on her face, "By the time he had been done with her, she had been half dead." Two days later, the she-wolf had actually died. Her body, unable to heal, mentally and physically, from the trauma that she had been subjected to.

And yet no one had said a single word. Not one.

Because it was Sir Joffery, because it was the high commander of the pack. Because he is the true chief of the pack, no matter who is called the alpha. Everybody knew that. He had the real power; he was the warrior, the fighter. He was the man who held control over their army; he decided when, how, and where to attack their enemy and strike them down. Alpha Marcus was just a pawn, a weaker substitute only in the alpha position, because he had money that his father had left him.

Elara looked around, suddenly desperate for help. Anyone at all. Anyone. She looked at her friend Damion, who had just turned eighteen last month and had been out on the hunt for the first time. He looked away, not meeting her eyes,

Her heart thundered with fear as she looked into the eyes of that old man. The expression in them, lewd, as he walked towards her, and Elara wanted to hide, to escape, because she knew even with a hundred people here, no one would make a sound if he hurt her right there in front of them all. She took a step back, wanting to run, but before she could, she found herself stuck; a woman behind her was holding her arm in a tight grasp.

"You will go when Sir Joffery allows you to." She snarled, her large body covering her behind. "Now you will stand here and welcome his presence."

Sir Joffery's white scraggly beard hung in front of her as the man bent to face her, too close...too close. Elara wanted to move her face away, to close her eyes, and run. "Hello, little one..." He said, his voice husky, and then he licked his lips. "I had wanted you for a long-long time." Elara closed her eyes, and the woman behind her pinched her, "Keep you eyes on the Lord while he speaks to you." Elara watched, and so did the whole Frostmaw tribe. Young and old. "I had wanted to f**k you since the day you turned sixteen." "I used to watch you in the pack house garden playing with your friends in those pick shorts." He told her the same dirty, lewd smile on his face as he whispered the words into her ear. "But you were the beta's daughter." He sniffed. "The old bastard refused to let me have you. " He laughed. "But now he is dead," he declared and "You will be mine. As soon as I can arrange it, you will be in my bed and I will be screwing your brains out until you scream my name and cream on my d**k. I will fill you up with my bastard pups faster than you can blink."

Elara felt dirty, like something abhorrent was scrawling up her skin, walking on her body on its thousand legs. She felt dirty from within, and felt like she needed to scrub her skin raw. Scrub herself until it bled. Maybe, then she could feel clean again. Suddenly, he stretched his hands, and Elara flinched. But he didn't stop; his fingers moved towards her, down towards the pelvic region of her body, the juncture of her legs.

Elara couldn't take it, she turned, her body flinching completely as she made a run towards the gate blindly. Only to be held back by the fat woman behind her. "You will stand here and do as the master tells you to." She heard her snapping, and the whole pack watched as his index finger touched Elara's core. Moving over her jeans, right atop her womanhood.

Elara cried, "Let me go." Silence remained. People looked away. Because one word from their mouth and Sir Joffery would have them beheaded right here alongside Elara, or maybe r**e their daughters next. Who knew.

"Let me go!" She struggled, kicking her legs far and wide and twisting and turning, trying to get away, tears falling from her eyes. Her parents were dead. Her brother was dead, and after all that, she was to be subjected to something as humiliating as this was more than she could take. The big woman kept her in place. "You will move only when the master allows you to," Her sharp voice came from behind her. While Joffery's finger remained on the nub between her legs. "A fighter?" He murmured, a sly smile on his face. "I will enjoy that and so will my boys." He laughed, and so did the 16 men who stood behind him watching.

And then he moved, and walked towards the dias where Alpha Marcus stood alongside his beta looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. "Thank you, Alpha for this gift, I will cherish it." He bowed. "Of course." Alpha Marcus forced a smile back. "You fought and won us 13 wars, protected us from the Lycan king's attack. Destroyed their capital and captured the beta. I will be happy to provide you with anything you want."

Even if it's a living, breathing girl. He didn't say that; he didn't need to. Everyone understood the implication anyway and still looked away.

Harsher times were coming. It hadn't rained in Frostmaw for 2 years now. The food came from the captured villages that Sir Joffery and his army had captured. The water flowed from the creek that they had to pay a tax for. The money that went to Sir Joffery and their alpha, Marcus, stayed alive because Sir Joffery allowed it.

So, they turned their faces away and walked back into the safety of their homes. That if there was to be a victim, it was better be the orphan Elara, than someone of their own.

Leaving Elara Winters broken on the ground, silent, hot tears running down her cheeks with humiliation and fear so deep that every part of her body shivered and shook with only one thought in her head, 'She needed to get out of here. And she needed to do it fast.'