Chapter 9 NINE
ALORA
"Eyes down. Back straight. Three steps behind at all times."
Master Kane circles me slowly, each word punctuated by the tap of his cane against the marble floor. The training room feels impossibly large, mirrors on every wall reflecting my attempts at proper slave posture.
"Again," he commands. "Walk to the door."
I move forward, trying to remember every instruction. Eyes lowered but not closed. Hands clasped at lower back. Small steps, silent steps. My reflection shows a dozen mistakes I didn't know I was making.
The cane cracks against the floor beside me. "Wrong. Your posture suggests defiance. You're a slave, not a soldier. Soften those shoulders."
I adjust, fighting my natural instinct to stand tall. The silk of my new robe whispers against my skin as I move, another reminder of my status as Alpha Stone's personal property.
"Better." Master Kane's voice holds a hint of approval. "Now, serving protocols. Show me how you'd present wine to the Alpha."
My hands tremble slightly as I lift the crystal decanter. Three steps forward. Sink to knees gracefully. Head bowed, arms extended, offering up.
"Hold that position."
Minutes tick by. My arms burn. Sweat trickles down my spine. Just when I think I can't maintain it any longer, he speaks.
"Rise. Again."
We repeat this for hours. How to serve, how to kneel, how to speak when spoken to. The proper ways to present myself for inspection. My wolf rails against each submission, but I force her down.
"Interesting." Master Kane pauses his instruction. "Most wolfless ones struggle with the physical demands. Their bodies, lacking wolf strength, give out quickly. Yet you show no such weakness."
Fear spikes through me. "I—"
"You were well-trained before coming here." He cuts off my excuse. "Very well-trained. Almost as if..."
The training room door opens, saving me from his suspicious observation. Sarah enters, carrying a bundle of fabric.
"Alpha Stone requests her presence at dinner," she announces. "I'm to prepare her."
Master Kane's eyes narrow. "She's not ready. Protocol demands at least a week of—"
"Alpha's orders."
Those two words end all argument. Master Kane turns to me, face severe.
"Remember your training. One mistake at his table..." He lets the threat hang.
Sarah hurries me to the bathing chambers, where steaming water and scented oils await. As she helps me wash, her fingers tremble.
"You must be perfect tonight," she whispers, working rose oil into my hair. "He's invited his inner circle. They'll be watching, waiting for you to fail."
"Why?" I manage as she helps me into a new robe, this one sheer enough to make me blush. "Why does he—"
"Care about a wolfless slave?" Sarah's hands pause at my shoulders. "That's what terrifies us all. He's never shown such interest before. Never demanded one of us serve so soon."
She turns me to the mirror, and I barely recognize myself. The silk clings like water, hiding nothing. My hair falls in soft waves, my skin glows from the oils. I look...
"Like an offering," Sarah whispers. "That's what this is. He's presenting you to his inner circle. But as what?"
Before I can respond, a bell chimes. Dinner time.
"Remember," Sarah squeezes my hands. "Eyes down. Speak only when spoken to. And whatever you do, don't let him see your fear."
But as I follow her to the dining hall, fear is the least of my concerns. Because beneath the rose oil and silk, my heat is building again. And I'm about to spend hours in close proximity to the most dominant Alpha I've ever encountered.
Please, Goddess, don't let me lose control. Don't let him see what I really am.
Don't let him know that every submissive pose, every lowered gaze, every practiced movement makes my wolf want to bare her throat and beg for his bite.
The dining hall doors open, and his scent hits me like a physical blow.
Time to prove I can be the perfect slave.
Even if it kills me.