Betrayed And Sold To The Alpha King

Work Or Die

SERENA'S POV

It took every bit of self control in me to keep my jaw screwed shut. I was dreaming, I had to be. Did Wayne Temple just promote me to his personal slave?

For a long ass second, I stood there with my head low waiting for him to correct himself or for me to wake up from this odd nightmare but everything remained very much real and he sat there watching me with those emotionless eyes.

Finally, I found my voice. “No.”

His eyebrow twitched like he had not expected my response. “No?”

“Yeah, no,” I yelled, flinching at how loud I was, my heart drumming so loud in my ears. "I'm not going to be your personal slave. Sorry, Your Highness, but you picked the wrong girl.”

For the first time I could sight of a real emotion but it was barely there. Like he had accepted me to jump at the offer. Good. At least I could shock him.

But then his voice came low, calm, and way too steady. “I didn’t offer you a choice.”

I crossed my arms, pretending I wasn’t shaking.

“Well, I’m making it a choice. With all due respect, I’d rather be scrubbing pots in the kitchen than fetching your boots or polishing your crown or whatever it is a personal slave does.”

“Careful,” he warned, though his face was still that blank marble mask.

“Oh, forgive me, Your Majesty,” I drawled, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Clearly, I’m not fit for such an… honorable position. Better you find someone else. I’ll stick to being a maid. A background worker."

I turned on my heel, already tasting the sweet victory of walking away except I didn’t get two steps before a strong hand clamped around my arm.

In one brutal pull, he yanked me back, spinning me toward him. I sucked in a sharp breath and my legs gave weight as he shoved me to my knees.

"I don't remember giving you a choice. You either serve me, Serena, or you rot in prison. Decide.” His voice made a shiver go downy spine

And I hated the fact that I knew how much it meant. This wasn’t some royal scare tactic. He would happily watch me rot in a dark damp cell.

For a minute I considered accepting the dark offer but the thought of my father happy and satisfied made me shudder in anger. Selling me off like a bag of flour. If I ended up locked away, wouldn’t that just prove him right? That I was useless?

I hated it. Every part of me screamed to fight. But survival was louder.

I lifted my head just enough to meet Wayne’s eyes. “Fine,” I muttered. My voice barely carried, but the defeat in it burned like acid. “I’ll do it.”

His gaze lingered on me for a heartbeat, then he gave a short nod. “Good.”

Swallowing hard, I forced myself to ask, “Do you… need anything, Your Majesty?”

“No.”

“Then… May I leave?”

His hand flicked in a dismissive gesture. Permission.

I pulled myself off running out of his room with whatever dignity I still had left.

My emotions came tumbling the moment the door shut behind me. Dark and negative emotions, my veins filled with anger and I recalled my father's face with things I would've done to him if I were free. Things violent, ugly, and satisfying.

But the tears pressing at my eyes? No. I refused. Crying was a luxury, a privilege for girls who had choices. I doubt I was ever even going to get my freedom back and even if I did. I might already be old and wrinkly.

So with a deep breath, I pushed the lump in my throat down and tried to focus on something, like killing my father with a shard of glass. The sweet daydreams.

“You? What are you doing standing there? You’re supposed to be helping get things ready for the King. Making sure everything is to satisfaction.”

I stared at the maid in confusion wondering where she came from. “Right, because I magically know what ‘satisfaction’ looks like for him?”

She frowned like I was a stupid child. “You’ll learn. Come.”

I wanted to ask why the maid who had been doing it before couldn’t keep doing it. But fine. Whatever. Better to follow her than stand around looking like an i***t.

The kitchen was already in chaos. Pots boiling, people shouting, food everywhere. I stood there like the world’s most useless extra while they worked like clockwork. The older maid shoved me next to her. “Watch. Don’t touch. You’ll plate later.”

“Great,” I muttered. “Exactly what I dreamed of when I woke up this morning.”

She worked with lightning speed so fast it made me get a migraine just watching. By the time we got everything ready the sun was already setting.

I only noticed because of the way it hit the windows and the stupid thought hit me, this is my life now. Serving him. Being around him twenty-four seven. No breaks. No air. Just him. The idea alone made my skin crawl.

The food was finally ready and I followed it out with the maids in front and me at the back like a creepy out of place stalker.

The dining room was just as fancy as the rest of the castle and I couldn't stop myself from gawking at the chandeliers and marble floors.

They placed the food on the fancy looking table and I stayed far away trying to pretend like his eyes were not all over me. We turned to go but unfortunately the devil had other plans.

“Stop.”

Wayne’s voice. The woman with the tray froze. So did I. He turned his head slightly. “Not her,” he said, pointing at one of the servers. “They can go. You….stay.”

My stomach dropped. “Excuse me?”

His eyes landed on me, cool as ice. “There’s another plate on the table. Did you not see it?”

“Yeah, I saw it,” I said slowly. “I thought maybe you were expecting someone else.”

“No,” he said. “It’s for you. Sit.”

I almost laughed in his face. “I’m not sitting. And I’m definitely not eating with you.”

“Why not?” His tone was way too amused for my liking.

“Because I’m not hungry,” I shot back.

As if with a mission to humiliate me, my tummy made the loudest noise known to wolves and I stiffened waiting for the floor to open and swallow me whole. His lips curved. The Lycan King actually grinned.

“Doesn’t sound like it,” he said.

I glared at him. “With all due respect, still no.”

He didn’t argue. He just flicked his hand, and a guard picked up the plate from the table, setting it down on the floor right beside Wayne’s chair.

“You’ll eat there,” Wayne said simply.

My jaw nearly hit the ground. “You can’t be serious.”

“Sit,” he said again.

I wanted to refuse, scream, anything. But in the end, I sat. On the damn floor, plate in front of me, like some pet dog. Every bite burned going down, and all I could think about was killing him in at least a hundred different ways.