A slave to the Alpha I rejected

Walk of shame

The light rays of the morning sun illuminated the room from the window as Celeste rolled atop the clustered roll of clumped sheets that clung to her body while she writhed under them.

Her body was sore with each movement as she felt a wicked sensation etched on her wrist, just as her eyes shot open.

Celeste then realized last night wasn’t a nightmare, and right now wasn't the sweet, calm moment she had hoped for.

Not when her body felt so sore, her hips burned, and her thighs ached from the alphas touch last night. But it showed it wasn’t just a dream, he was real, he is alive.

The had been out cold for the last few hours since she had barely had rest since she was captured during her mating ceremony.

The bruises around her arms made all the memories of last night rush back in a sweep that had her groan.

The way Syzar ruthlessly touched and licked her, the way he used her body all night, not satiated in the least, and she had paid the price.

“Well, that's one way to wake up. You are still enjoying your time, are you?” A mocking glower caught her off guard as she shot up from the bed.

Noting she hadn’t been alone, her gaze locked on the two males in the room, their snow-white hair a dead giveaway of the beta men she recalled seeing the day they had taken Derek away.

Their faces were identical, with icy blue eyes and white hair—a trait only seen in snow wolves from the south. She peered at the male close to her, scarred with a slanted slit mark over his lips, his left hand made of prosthetic metal that had claws.

Eyes cold, he walked forward, while the second male still lounged on the armchair, which brought back flashes of memories of Celeste taking Syzar in her mouth.

Her body heated from the memory, and even her sore core still thrummed from the memory of the brutal, wicked king, she muttered, just as the shadow of the male hovered over her.

She raised the blanket over her naked body as she demanded, “Who...who are you?” she whispered, just as a wicked smirk built on his lips.

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know, Crossvale princess? Wasn’t the king enough for you, or do you need another c**k to fill your cunt?” he said so outlandishly she felt taken aback by his unbrazen words.

Were all males in Sorgale so rough and unhinged? She had barely been allowed close to any man ever since she was a child, and the only one for whom she’d pushed back the rules and danger was Syzar.

Even in his captive state, he intrigued her. His calm and revered demeanor, even in the face of danger, always drew her in, but now his words all held a brutal blow meant to break her.

She quivered under the male's brutal scrutiny as his eyes went over her naked body, and his hands pushed past the quiet to her legs, stopping the moment he felt the warm trace of the alpha’s scent and juices on her skin.

“Hmm, looks like he f****d you well enough,” he called, as Celeste had never felt such mortification knowing what he meant; her scowl grew just as the tension broke from the other male's voice.

“That’s enough bullshit for today, Cassian…” he said to the male, who chuckled. “I am Callix, and this oaf is my brother, Cassian Altaire… Welcome to the Sorgale capital, the Silver City,” the long, white-haired male spoke, earning her gaze.

Compared to Cassian, whose hair was shaved into a low buzz cut, his brother had a side plait of his long white hair that swept to his left side.

The snowy white lashes proved their palpability against their dark bronze skin.

His gaze held a more reserved and kinder look than Cassian's, who still watched her, any trace of his amusement gone as he waited. “Now we’ve gotten your attention, get dressed, slave,” Cassian said coldly.

And his eyes meant she was to get dressed in their presence; the smirk on his face was held expectantly for her to beg and plead on her knees.

“We are heading to Muriel; you need to be dressed. Let’s go, brother,” Callix added as the twins held their stare, and Cassian showed no signs of moving.

“Not in your dreams, I won’t,” the beta said, eyes unceasing. Even as Celeste hoped they’d give her space, she knew then that there wouldn’t be a moment where her dignity wasn't played with.

Cassian wasn’t giving her the chance to be alone, and a fight might ensue at any moment, so with a trembling hand, she let the blanket fall.

She didn’t dare look up at them as she picked up her dress, wearing it under their gaze—one that was flamed with surprise that she didn't beg Cassian.

Her skin was still flushed as they walked down the hall, with all eyes on her haggard appearance.

Marks from last night and hours before littered her skin, and the thick drip of Syzar's c*m between her thighs and down her legs.

A befitting humiliation ritual and a walk of shame past the servants and towards another main room where the door lay closed, leaving them in a room that smelled heavily of herbs and oils.

And in the center sat two females, one old as she crushed a few herbs, her eye not yet on Celeste.

But Celeste could feel the other woman’s gaze on her; she was met with a beautiful woman with dark brown hair, and crystals adorned her dress and hair.

Her dark brown eyes were cold as she turned to the males, while Celeste stood in confusion from her wicked stare.

Celeste's eyes moved towards the makeshift cast they were seeing removed from the female's hand as she stretched it.

“This is good, Muriel; I feel better,” she called to the older woman, who was clearly the healer.

And by the look on the beta twins’ faces, they hadn’t expected to see her here. “Nyssa?” Callix called first as he stood. Her long dress sways and shimmers while she walks towards them.

“So he really went through with it without me…”

“You just fell off a horse and were on bed rest from your wound; he didn't want you involved in this—”

“Enough, Cassian...” she called with a hand toward the beast, who hummed his response. “... So, finally, she is the daughter of that bastard and the revered Ayvoc… Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” she called with a cold smile.

One that immediately fell when she saw the bite marks on Celeste's neck and the c*m dripping down her thigh while she smelled heavily of the alpha.

Celeste had been barely keeping it together, biting through her tongue from the burning pain in her hips and now the taunts from the woman she came to know as Nyssa, who seemed so familiar.

“Know this, slave: you are nothing but a toy to the king. You do not deserve to be in his presence, and I would have made sure you burned with the rest of your traitor family, but soon enough, your ruin will come,” she hissed coldly.

“She will be trained in the master's preference, and she will learn; that is what the alpha wants.” The older lady's voice cut Nyssa off as a scowl grew on her face.

“No matter what, she will never be perfect for him as I am; she is just a useless b***h who is need—”

“Nyssa...” Cassian cut her off with a dark warning, one that confused Celeste, as Nyssa cursed before leaving through the doors.

“Just know I will make your time here hell, Ayvoc,” Nyssa hissed as the doors slammed shut. The twins looked back at the old woman, whom Celeste believed was Muriel, who walked toward her.

Muriel trailed forward a thin index finger to clear her chin, turning her head to examine her with a quiet frown on her mouth as she sighed.

“Welcome, child. As you know, you have become the king's property; do what you must to survive,” she called, and Celeste felt a chill down her back.

Knowing her misery had just begun, but why did the king need her? Why wasn't she just killed instead? But she knew she had no right to ask.

She was just his slave, after all, the thought makes her lungs heavy. Her vision with splotches of black rings surrounding her vision as Muriel’s voice tunneled in her mind.

that daunting thought brought the room spinning just as she dropped to the floor and everything around her turned black.