Sold To The Ruthless Werewolf King

14

Emily

The King’s dark, golden gaze stared deep into my soul, stripping away the last of my pride. My choices were gone. It was either let him drain my veins or watch myself get torn to pieces and eaten alive by the massive monsters surrounding me.

“I will allow you to drain my blood,” I said, trying to make my voice sound steady.

The king froze, and then he burst into a wild, echoing laugh. The sound was crazy and dangerous, bouncing off the high stone walls.

“D... did I say something wrong?” I whispered, shrinking back.

“You still sound so arrogant, even when you are standing at death’s door,” he said, his laughter cutting off instantly. His face went completely blank, staring at me as if I were his worst enemy. One second, he was laughing, and the next, he was looking at me like I was already a ghost. “You don’t allow me to do anything, ugly one. You should be begging me to drain your blood.”

My eyes widened in sheer horror.

I had to beg him to bleed me? What kind of twisted beast was this?

I swallowed hard, the humiliation burning hotter than the scars on my face. I dropped my head, forcing my body into total submission. “My King... please. Please drain my blood.”

“Good,” I heard him purr above me. “You may rise.”

I forced my legs to straighten, my entire body shaking so violently that I nearly collapsed right then and there. This is it, I thought bitterly. This is my end.

The king didn’t wait. With a brutal, lightning-fast flick of his wrist, he slashed his razor-sharp claw across my arm. A sharp cry left my lips as a deep gasp of pain followed. Thick, crimson blood began to pour from the wound, dripping steadily into the heavy silver bowl he held beneath it.

It kept dripping. And dripping. The room began to tilt. My chest felt hollow, and the torches on the walls blurred into long streaks of fire.

“My King...” I breathed, my voice barely a whisper. “Is that... is that enough?”

“Not even close to enough,” he replied coldly, his eyes locked on the rising pool of red.

He wanted to kill me. He was going to empty me completely.

After what felt like an eternity, the darkness rushed in. My eyes couldn’t focus, and my legs completely gave out. Was I truly going to die here? Was this the final chapter of my miserable life?

“I’m dying,” I whispered into the void. “I don’t want to...”

The words died in my throat. I could feel my soul slipping away, untethering from my broken flesh. The very last thing I heard before the world went completely black was his flat, uncaring voice echoing above me:

“Dispose of her body. She is useless.”

*

My eyes snapped open, and I violently jumped up, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I gasped for air, clutching my chest as I looked around the unfamiliar room. The walls were made of dark stone, but there was a soft bed beneath me.

Was I in the afterlife?

A sudden panic rushed through my veins. I scrambled off the mattress, my bare feet hitting the cold floorboards.

“Where is this place?” I whispered to the empty air, tears pricking my eyes. “Am I dead? Can I finally see my mom again?”

“You’re awake, Miss?” a soft voice called out.

I flinched, spinning around as the heavy wooden door pushed open. A young girl stepped into the room, holding a tray of clean water and cloths.

“How... how did you know I was awake?” I asked, my voice trembling with fear as I backed into the wall.

“I could hear your heartbeat from the hallway,” she responded gently, offering a small, comforting smile. “I’m Lumi.”

“This must be heaven,” I muttered, pressing my hands against my face. “You must be an angel here to collect my soul.”

“Your soul?” Lumi repeated, her brow furrowing in total confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Did the Moon Goddess send you to guide me?” I asked, my eyes darting nervously around the quiet room.

Lumi let out a small breath, shaking her head. “What are you talking about? You’re not dead!”

“What?”

The word felt heavy. Suddenly, the memories came rushing back in a violent wave—the silver bowl, the dripping blood, the King’s cold command to throw my body away.

“I’m... I’m not dead?”

Tears finally streamed down my face, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of pure, shocking joy. I was still breathing. My heart was still beating.

“No, you are very much alive,” Lumi said, walking over to set the tray down. “But you’ve been asleep for three whole days.”

“Three days!” I gasped.

I calmed my breathing, my eyes roaming from her soft features down to her petite frame. She didn’t have the terrifying, colossal size of the other monsters in this castle.

“What are you?” I asked cautiously.

“I’m a wolf,” she replied quietly. “Just like you.”

“A wolf?” I repeated, shaking my head. “But you look nothing like the people in the grand hall.”

A sad, hollow laugh escaped Lumi’s lips. “I’m not from the Nightclaw Pack. My own father sold me to this place to pay off his debts. I’m just a slave here.”

“Oh...” I breathed. A strange sense of relief washed over me. I wasn’t alone in this hellhole. There was someone else who knew what it felt like to be betrayed by the people who were supposed to love you.

Lumi opened her mouth to speak again, but the door was suddenly kicked open with a loud bang.

We both gasped, jumping backward.

A massive, armored guard stood in the doorway, his chest armor gleaming. “The King demands your presence. Now.”

Lumi didn’t waste a second. She quickly grabbed a simple dress from a nearby chest and threw it over my head. Before we walked out, she handed me a thick, dark veil. “Put this on,” she whispered urgently. “Don’t let him see your face. We cannot displease the King.”

I pulled the veil over my head, hiding my scarred face in the shadows of the fabric. My heart stopped countless times in sheer terror as the guard led me down the twisting, dark corridors of the castle. Every step felt like a march back to the executioner’s block.

Finally, the guard announced my arrival and pushed the heavy iron doors open.

This hall was different from the massive ceremonial room where the guards had been slaughtered. This was a private council chamber. A massive, polished wooden table sat in the center, and sitting around it were the King’s terrifying elders. At the head of the table sat the King himself.

I kept my eyes glued to the floor, walking forward until I stood before his throne. I dropped into a low, deep bow.

“My King,” I whispered, my voice muffled by the veil. “You asked for me.”

A collective gasp echoed through the room.

“She is alive!” one of the elders whispered in absolute shock, slamming his hands on the table.

“I can’t believe this,” another murmured, staring at me like I was a monster. “After the King drained that much blood from her body... she is still breathing.”

They kept talking about me as if I were a ghost, an impossibility standing right in front of them.

Dead? I thought, my hands curling into tight fists beneath the folds of my dress. A cold, lethal venom flooded my veins.

No. I would never die. Not until I repaid every single ounce of pain they gave me in pure, unadulterated blood. Anna, Josh, Clara, and my father—they owed me their lives.

Why would I ever allow myself to die before I take their heads?