Enslaved to His Rejection

Chapter 3

Amelia's POV

One day, I overheard the maids talking about it, that some of us were going to leave the Red Fire pack.

Manuel was especially happy as he announced that I was being sold because I was more trouble than I was worth.

I knew he didn't want me anywhere near his brother and maybe, with the new maids coming in, he had a new playtoy.

I had barely healed from his beatings and was in no shape to be transported but did they care?

I was given clothes that were just a tad better than the rags I had been living in since I became a slave.

It didn't have any holes but was threadbare and washed out. The dress felt three sizes too big for me but I didn't mind. It was my peep to freedom and so I managed to find a length of rope to knot around my waist to keep it from hanging too much off my frail frame.

That evening, after my chores, I was lined up with other maids, and A man I had never seen before arrived.

We stood like cattle while he perused us, checking our teeth, eyes, and hips before he started picking which he felt was alright.

"I like this one," He declared when he got to me.

"You should be careful with her. She might look quiet but she's like a fox" Manuel mentioned.

The man chuckled, “Is that so? I like them like that. Sell her to me, I'd be honored to break her."

My stomach rumbled with disgust as I tried to imagine what a vile man like this would do to someone like me. I prayed Manuel would change his mind and sell me to someone else, but he didn't.

My hands were shackled and I was led to the back of a large van. The doors were thrown open to reveal women with dull eyes and garments like men.

I was thrown in with them unceremoniously and the doors shut just as quickly, leaving us in the dark. I could hear one of the women muttering something that sounded like a prayer.

“The moon goddess helps people that call to her. We need to pray."

"Pray," somebody rasped. "Pray to the moon goddess on our behalf to save us."

“She doesn't answer prayers like that," I replied.

There was a short mocking laugh.

“Well then, I suggest you fashion your prayer to her in whatever way because if Bloodhound notices you, you'll need more than just prayers to escape him."

"Who is Bloodhound?"

“He's the man who just bought you." She replied. I studied her face for a while. She seemed like she had been with Bloodhound for a while and had seen what vile things he could do. She spoke from experience with those weary eyes.

“Pray."

With that, the vehicle fell silent. I don't know how long we traveled. I couldn't tell you my left from my right in the oppressing darkness; that was how endless the journey felt.

The back of the van was hot and uncomfortable, the heat made us sweat and then smile. It also smelled of urine and something very foul that I refused to think about.

I tried to think of a happy memory to distract myself from whatever fate I was about to face, but my mind could not even conjure anything. All my life had been filled with hardship, what was there to think about in the first place?

Finally, the van stopped. I heard a door open and then shut, and a moment later the double doors were flung open. I winced as the light suddenly flooded the interior of the Van. I could see the rest of the girls stirring from their reclined positions and becoming alert.

“It's time to meet your new owners, smile," Bloodhound said with a wild grin.

We were marched out of the van in a single file, the bindings on our wrists linked together. The place was quite simply a slave market. It was bustling with activity, and I could see slaves with a similar setup as ours, led by men with greedy beady eyes.

We were led to a stage and directed to kneel and keep our gazes downcast, and our mouths closed unless instructed otherwise.

There were more than a hundred slaves on the stage and seated below well-dressed older men and women perusing what was on offer.

One after the other we were asked to stand up and bids were placed on us till we were sold.

My turn was fast approaching and I was terrified.

"Stand up," one of the guards nudged me.

"She's Pure, untouched, and young. She’ll make a fine slave for you. We are starting at five hundred dollars. Do I hear any buyers?" The organizer called for me to rise on my wobbly legs.

“A thousand dollars," a voice rang out from the crowd.

“Fifty thousand dollars," another countered.

"I’ll give you One hundred thousand dollars, just give me that girl," yet another voice declared, all while I stood there, trying to hide how my knees were knocking together in horror.

“A Million dollars," a deep voice spoke. The crowd fell into a hush and seemed to part for the man who had spoken. Something within me began to stir and take notice.

I didn't know why I cared to note but I felt he was a powerful man. Intuition perhaps, or the way his voice had carried above the crowd.

As soon as he was close enough, his eyes met mine.

“Mate,” my wolf declared. She cried out, yearning. Eager to run towards him.

“I'm not doing that again, heaven's rebuke!"

I wasn't foolish enough to give in to whatever madness had taken hold of my wolf. It seemed my wolf excelled in choosing the most unlikely people.

The man standing before me could never be interested in someone like me.

I reminded myself of my place. I was a slave.

Not only was he the most handsome man I had ever seen, but he was beautiful too.

His brown curly hair and his eyes were colored gray, unique, I had never seen those before.

And as I studied more, I noticed his imposing build, but I must have looked like a goat to him.

I couldn't even fathom him throwing so much money away at me. With that conviction, I ignored the aching hunger of my wolf to be joined to this man before us.

I didn't want to embarrass myself again, I couldn't handle being rejected twice.

I cut eye contact, casting my eyes down to my bruised and dusty feet. I stayed silent while I was unchained and handed off to an older woman who I assumed worked for the man who had bought me.

Even being transported in the back seat of a nice vehicle like royalty did little to raise my hopes for my new home and master. I had been taken from one prison to another, I needed to remember that.

"Welcome to the Crescent pack," the woman who had been driving announced a few hours later.

I had been in a daze the whole journey so I hadn't even realized the car had stopped moving. I looked out from the car window and gasped.

It was truly magnificent scenery.

The house was three stories and looked like a fancy hotel. I could count more than ten windows on each floor.

It looked ancient and beautiful.

I was still accessing the scenery when a black sports car pulled up. I came outside, my mouth snapped shut as soon as I locked eyes with the man who slid out of the car.

He said something to the other man in the car, threw one last glance at me, and walked off.

"That's Xavier Blade, alpha of this pack," the woman said, climbing out of the driver's seat. I closed the door.

"I'm Miranda and I'm in charge of the servants. Come on. Let's get you settled in the servants' quarters. I'm sure I can find you something better to wear."

"Orders from the alpha," the other man cut in. "She won't be staying in the servants' quarters. She's to be set up in one of the rooms on his floor and given her maid. Instruct the cook to make her something too."

Miranda's eyes went wide, but not as wide as mine was. What? What was happening?

Had Alpha Xavier acknowledged me as his mate? I fought to control my delighted smile.

If this was how it worked here, I would love to be a member of this pack.

It was so beautiful and calm out here. Furthermore, Alpha Xavier was extremely good-looking.

"Of course," Miranda said.

I was taken up two flights of stairs to the last floor where I was taken to a room that seemed out of a fairytale storybook.

A bedroom painted with pearly white. There was a large window looking out into the front yard.

My bathroom was complete with a bathtub. Everything looked too good to be true and I was too afraid to touch anything in case I got it dirty. Everything smelled fresh, unlike the drudgery I had gotten used to.

A moment after leaving, a girl my age walked into the room.

"I'm Baylee May, your maid. I'm here at your disposal for anything at all. I have a selection of outfits for you that you can change into after a shower." She brandished an arm full of fabric at me.

"Hello, Baylee. I'm Amelia. It's nice to meet you. I don't need a personal maid though."

"I'm sure you don't think you need one. But you'll need me eventually, ma'am."

"Please call me Amelia." I insisted. I was nineteen and being called ma'am by someone my age made me feel extremely old and snobbish.

“The elder Miranda will have my head if she catches me calling you anything other than ma'am."

"Okay then. How about when it's just us? Can you call me Amelia then?"

Baylee grinned. "Of course, Rina. Come on. I'll help you shower and dress up. They're making you a late lunch as we speak. Let's hurry so it won't get cold."

Baylee liked to talk so much and frankly speaking, I enjoyed listening to her. I hadn't had a friend my age while I grew up so I was grateful.

I noticed that compared to me, Bayle was very outspoken.

She was mouthy, loud, and easily vexed. She liked to think she could be whoever she wanted to be as long as she kept her behavior and mouth in check.

I liked her behavior and couldn't help but cross my legs, hold my chin, and then study her.

I needed a friend and it seemed I had found one. An unlikely one, but one all the same.

I was fed well that night and ushered even for a massage. Everything was at my beck and call so I couldn't help but imagine that Crescent Pack was beginning to feel like a new home for me.

“Maybe life wasn't so bad after all."