Caught between the three Alpha Kings.

CHAPTER THREE

CARRIE

My shock multiplies. I can’t believe what I am hearing, or what I am seeing. I had been treated hospitably all these while. Bathed, clothed and fed. And now their generosity was being retracted. And for what? I had mentioned my father’s name.

I find it astonishing at how their kindness has instantly turned into hate.

“Forgive me Alphas but I find this very absurd,” I say. The panic that had once receded rears it head once more. “I have nowhere to go. I just had to flee my home, and I’m in dire need of hospitality.”

“We can’t help you.” Terrence’s face is impassive, stone cold. “As I said before, get out.”

“No,” I say, standing my ground. “I am going nowhere.”

I know that I sound very haughty and entitled, but the truth is that I am scared. If I get kicked out, I would be forced to look for another pack. The probability that I would run into rogues in the woods again is very high. And I might not be as lucky again.

Terrence gives me a sudden assessing look. “You have nowhere to go,” he says, as if he was reading my mind. “You need us, and you need our hospitality.”

Then he smiles. A mischievous smile that promises nothing good.

“You can stay, but only if you agree to be our slave.”

My eyes bug out at this. Become their slave? Why would they treat me like this? What did they hope to gain from this?

Terrence sees the disapproval on my face as says, “Well, if you don’t agree, you will have to be kicked out of here. Out of the safety of our home. Our pack. But I know you’ll make the smart choice, seeing as how the woods are very dangerous these days.”

The whole room seems to close in on me as the reality of the situation hits me. I had escaped one misfortune, and I am entering an even bigger one. I feel humiliated, weak, the lack of control grating at me. I know that I had no choice in the matter. I can only hope that they will be nice to me, if not for anything but for the fact that we are mates.

Terrence calls in some maids. “Take her to her new living quarters,” he orders them. He has a wicked glint in his eyes as he says it. My chest pounds with this strange apprehensive rush.

The maids take me by the arm, gentle but also firm. They lead me out of the room and away from the luxurious quarters entirely. They bring me to a room in a shabbier looking quarter. I gasp as I open the door.

“Are you people serious? This is my room?”

This ‘room’ is smaller than my smallest closet back home. There is barely enough space for the thin mattress that lay directly on the floor. No other furniture I could find besides a measly blanket.

The maids don’t respond to me, they merely nudge me inside, not forcefully but definitely not gently as well. It seems like their time spent serving here has made them hone their skills at passive aggression.

One of them hands me a bundle of rags. I wrinkle my nose at them. “Your new clothes,” she says.

My eyes bug out of my head. These people can’t be serious, can they? It wasn’t possible that they can keep anybody here in such inhumane conditions, no matter how low-ranking they are.

“You will resume work tomorrow,” the maid continues. And without another word, they all file silently out if the hall, leaving me alone in my room.

I shake it off as I lie on the very uncomfortable mattress. This is all a joke, or a test or something. Something to make me prove my worth to the rest of the pack. That is the only explanation for all this.

Lunchtime arrived, and I go to the dining room. The other maids are gathered around and all are eating. I don’t see any plate reserved for me.

“Hey, who is the person serving food?” I ask. “I don’t see my share.”

The maids turn to look at me. Then they turn to each other. Then they burst into laughter. Wild, raucous and humiliating laughter. I feel my cheeks burn as I stand there fidgeting. What is wrong with what I said?

“Listen up, princess,” says a maid. She says ‘princess’ like it’s a slur. “if you want to eat, then you have to cook.”

I have never cooked anything in my life. There has always been maids to do such things that I have never bothered to learn. I have no choice but to learn or else I’ll starve.

I decide that I want to eat some meat. That means steak and bacon. These ones wouldn’t be hard to cook. Just leave it over the fire and wait.

But it is more than just that. I didn’t realize that I am not supposed to turn the heat up so much to allow the meat more time to cook. The result is several blackened and shrunken pieces of bacon. The steak is badly burned—nearly charred—on one side, and very raw on the other. Rancid smoke fills the kitchen and threatens to choke me.

Some of the maids rush in, coughing loudly and chastising me harshly. One of them even smacks me across the head. The rest fan away the smoke and throw open the kitchen windows wide open.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Tariq is at the doorway taking in everything. He doesn’t look happy. Uh oh, I think.

The maids tell him about the food I burnt and show him the mess of the food I had tried to cook.

He turns to me, furious. “I don’t know if that’s how you did it wherever you come from, but in this pack we do not waste food. This isn’t some palace so you’re going to have to get used to that immediately.”

I keep my eyes on the ground. “I understand. It won’t happen again.”

“Oh, it sure won’t.” He picks up the plate and hands it to me. “Eat. Everything.”

I look up at him in surprise. He wants me to eat the burned food? My mouth gapes open. I’m at a loss for words.

“Eat! Lest I bring down my wrath upon you!” he roared striking fear into me.

I hastily shovel the burned food into my mouth, groaning in disgust at the taste of char and raw meat. It takes everything in me to chew and swallow and not throw everything back up. My eyes water from the stress, and I have the strong urge to wash my mouth.

But what hurt me more is Tariq smiling at my discomfort and my humiliation. The maids snicker and titter cruelly.

But I won’t cry. I won’t give them that satisfaction even though I so badly want to.

“Can you tell me what I did to deserve this?” I ask Tariq after I was done eating.

He smirks at me. “It is fun for me.”

And he walks out of the kitchen, leaving me in silence.