Seven Mates

Mind Of A Slave, Blood Of A Monster.

“She’s such a lazy ass,” Olcan snorted. “This is the chosen one? She’s a damn weakling.”

Then, the command hit me like lightning.

“Turn around,” the man said, his voice full of power.

My body obeyed without thought.

My heart stopped.

And I saw him clearly.

He was beautiful, like a fallen god. Chiseled and regal. The sort of man who could have thousands begging to touch him.

He wore a loose white, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. His rough, short hair fell messily across his face in wispy strands—white as snow, just like his skin. A dark blue cross-shaped mark etched into the center of his forehead, cold and striking. Silver rings adorned his fingers, subtle but expensive, and his sneakers looked custom-made. He was pale, almost ethereal, with soft lips, a slightly pointed nose, and deep, piercing blue eyes.

He hung his black overcoat on his right hand.

What was he?

He radiated power and danger… and something else I couldn’t name. Just looking at him gave me chills. Another wave of pain hit me. My head felt like it would split open.

And then… visions.

Faces I didn’t recognize. Voices screaming for help. A flood of emotions that weren’t mine.

I stumbled, clutching my head, trying to stay on my feet.

Who were these people? I keep seeing memories that didn’t belong to me? Jeremy ran to me, grabbing my shoulders in a rush.

"Are you okay?" His voice was heavy with concern, eyes wide as he stared into mine.

I blinked, confused. "What?"

"You're crying. What happened? Are you okay?"

Crying? I touched my cheek and stared at the wetness on my fingers. Tears. But I didn’t remember shedding any.

Why the hell am I crying?

My hands trembled as I turned to Jeremy. Something about him... he made me feel things…things I’ve never felt before. A warmth, a strange pull. Was it my pheromones? Was he triggering something inside me? I feel like I know him. Like I’ve known him for a long, long time.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, brushing his hands off my shoulders.

But I wasn’t fine. I was furious. Furious that he felt me. Mad that I even felt anything toward him. They are my mates. And I don’t want them.

When I look into this god before me. His gaze softened the more he stared at me.

"I know who you are," he said softly. "You're Rudina, aren’t you?"

I glanced at him once more. His presence was calm but commanding. Was he the leader of the Seven?

“Yes,” I replied quietly, meeting his gaze again.

“She’s screwed if she speaks a word,” I heard Jeremy whisper to Cario.

Screwed? What? For breathing? For being here?

"The Alpha, ravished by her mates..."

Was that a cruel joke? A title? A mockery? I looked away as he stepped forward. Isn’t he one of my mates too? Then why does he speak as if I’m something filthy?

Jeremy leaned in and whispered coldly, "Speak when you’re spoken to. Don’t just stand there.”

"Ye...Yes." The words choked out of me. This was so damn frustrating.

“Which pack are you from?” he asked, voice calm but firm.

Shouldn’t he already know that?

“I don’t remember,” I said. “It’s been a long time. I’ve been a rogue for years... working, surviving.”

The truth? I didn’t want to remember. Not the pack that treated me like trash. If I ever go back, I’ll burn it all to the ground.

“How do you feed?”

“Excuse me?” I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“When you speak to him, say ‘Alpha,’” Jeremy said with a fake smile.

I wanted to smack him. So damn annoying.

“When was the last time you had blood?” the Alpha asked.

“It’s been a while,” I replied.

“No wonder. Your scent is weak, almost human. Disgusting. Couldn’t you find blood to feed your vampire side? You reek all over the mansion.”

“My wolf isn’t complaining,” I nearly snapped.

He ignored me.

“Your wolf may not need blood, but your vampire half does. You can’t smell like prey in a den full of predators. It’s not allowed here.”

Easy for him to say. He probably gets his blood served on a silver platter. I’d like to see him starve like I did. Screw his perfect face and his perfect tone. And wasn't he the one earlier getting head from some Omega or Alpha?

God, I'm tired.

"You can say those things to my face, you know. No need to think about them in your head.”

I froze. What?

“What?” I asked slowly. “Through my head?”

He nodded. “I can hear your thoughts.”

Laughter bubbled up behind me from the other Alphas.

“I said nothing. How... how do you know what I’m thinking?”

He quoted my exact thoughts, word for word. Every swear and insult.

The others gasped.

A chill slid down my spine. My heart thudded. He really could hear me.

“Yes. I can read your mind,” he confirmed, dark and deadly.

Damn it.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered and lowered my gaze.

I knew from the moment I saw him that something wasn’t right. Now I was sure.

“Don’t trash about me again. I will hear it. And I won’t be kind next time.”

He walked past me. The others burst into laughter behind him. What were they laughing at? What was funny?

“Throw this food away,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m not in the mood for petty, dirty scraps.”

And then... he was gone.

He could hear my thoughts? That wasn’t normal. It was rare. Impossible for an Alpha to do that. What kind of alpha was he? And how dare he call my food dirty?

I clenched my jaw. I needed to stop thinking. Now. Or he’d hear this too.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

I’m baffled by these Alphas and their twisted lifestyle. I need to escape. No more waiting. No more chains.

I can’t stay here, mates or not. The moment they slip, I’m gone.

“Hey, you haven’t served the food yet.” Cario’s mocking voice cut through the room, triggering another burst of cruel laughter. I clenched my jaw, fury boiling beneath the surface, but I swallowed it down. Lose control now? I might just lose myself.

So I served them. Plate after plate until their grotesque hunger got satisfied. Only for them to order me to clean, cook, wash, serve, again and again.

They gave me a “luxurious” room. A cage gilded with cold comfort. A slave, a maid trapped inside this fortress of dominance. I searched every corner for a crack to slip through. Nothing. Not one shadow, one escape route.

I’m drowning in this suffocating nightmare, thankful I haven’t become their plaything yet, their breeding object, a toy for their savage desires. If that happens… I’d rather die. They haunt me, morning, noon, night, demanding food, attention, obedience. Fingers snapping, voices barking like I’m nothing but their property.

Sometimes, I wish for death just to end this torment.

Ten plates vanish in a blink, yet no one ever gains an ounce. What holes do these beasts have? What abyss are they trying to fill?

Everyone devours food like monsters, except Griffith and the Alpha leader. Neither touches the food. I barely see them. What kind of twisted game are they playing?

Do they want me dead?