Chapter 5 To Serve The Commander
Ira’s POV
Anna’s feet kick against the dirt as two men in dark leather vests pin her arms. One cruelly grips her wrist, twisting it until she screams from the pain.
“Ir…” her scream is cut off by a hard slap, pulling a strangled cry from her throat.
“NO!” I yell at the top of my voice. “Let her go!”
There's chaos everywhere. Now that the dust is settling I can see two people lying unconscious on the floor. One being the merchant rider.
“Oren!” I stumble forward, my left leg hurting badly.
Oren cries out, his small fists pounding furiously at the back of a man who’s hauling him toward a different cart.
I can barely breathe through the drumming of my heart as I limp forward.
“Get your filthy hands off her!” I scream again, shoving one of the men.
Big mistake.
The man whirls, his chest heaving under his leather vest. His bushy beard hides most of his face, but his eyes glint with amusement. “Oh? Look what we have here.” he sneers, dragging his tongue slowly across his lower lip, lustful eyes running over me. “Maybe you can make yourself useful another way, huh?”
The others laugh, that ugly, guttural sound of men who think they own the world.
Before I can think, my hand flies. The slap echoes, so sharp that it stings my own palm.
Silence.
For half a second, no one moves. Then his expression twists into something monstrous. “You little shit!” He curses, his fist connecting with my jaw.
I stagger backwards, a cry of pain slipping past my lips.
Before I can fall, he grabs me again and this time hits me harder across the face.
“Stop!” I fight as my vision explodes in white. “Stop!”
But he doesn’t.
“Think you can talk back?” he growls, shoving me into the dirt, his iron shoe slamming down on my chest. “Let’s see how loud that mouth gets when…”
“Quit it Ham,” another voice cuts in.
The man pauses his attacks.
The new one who seems to have more authority frowns in disgust at my writhing body in the dirt before nodding toward the large dark wagons. “Load them. We’re wasting time.”
Anna gets thrown into one, falling in like a sack of potatoes. Soon after Oren too is dumped in the same cart.
I crawl to my knees, coughing up blood. The pain in my head is excruciating but I can still hear their cry as the horses kick in preparation to move.
“NO!” I sprint toward them, stumbling through the dirt. I'm not leaving them. I'm not leaving them.
Someone grabs my arm, yanking me backward. “Please!” I scream, twisting, trying to run free. “Let me go! Please! I can't leave them.”
The cart lurches forward, wheels creaking as the horses break into a run, dragging them away– away from me.
Something in my chest rips apart.
“Please!” I sob. “Please, take me too. Don’t leave me here!”
The man holding me laughs, his breath hot against my ear. “Leave you? Oh no, sweetheart. You’re coming with us. You’ll be useful in the base.”
The others snicker.
I barely hear any more, my heart telling me to give it one last try. I can still make it to them. I can't leave them. I promised.
With a snarl I twist my head and sink my teeth into his wrist, using every bit of strength I have left.
He roars, jerking away and immediately I run. I spit out the blood in my mouth, my eyes fixed on the moving cart.
“Get her!”
That's the last thing I hear before something heavy smashes against my head.
Cold.
It's the first thing I register as freezing water crashes into my face. I cough, choking on the still pouring water as I struggle to get my head away from it. But with my limbs tied to a chair, I find it impossible.
My mouth opens in a gasp when the water ceases.
I frown opening my eyes to the loud laughter of men. I struggle against the thick ropes digging into my wrists and ankles but it's useless and only earns me more mocking from those infront and pitiful glances from the five other ladies tied up beside me.
We are outside in an open hall with men everywhere. There's at least fifty of them dressed in dark blue uniforms. They all have similar badges on the left side of their shirts… it's in the shape of three angry claw marks… the proud mark of Vahl Pack warriors.
My blood runs cold.
The Vahl base. The Alpha King’s deadliest men. The place people whisper about but never want to see.
“Now that you're all awake,” one of them steps forward, his voice filled with authority, his blond hair shining gold under the sun. “ If you haven't figured it out, you are in Vahl base. Whatever right you once had is not recognized here. This place is where you’ll all work from now on,” he says.
“You'll do a good job don't worry. All you need to do is bend over.” Someone jests with a grin, his hand rubbing below his belt. The others laugh but the man in front shakes his head.
“Ignore what these bastards are saying” he says to us. “You don't owe anyone sex. Well unless you want to. But you must work nonetheless. Clean, serve, obey. You eat if you obey. You bleed if you don’t.” he says firmly, his eyes falling on me.
There's a beat of silence before he speaks again.
“But,” he adds, “one of you will serve the commander. You'll do all he says, keep him happy no matter how you feel about it.”
My heart stops as everywhere suddenly becomes cold in a whole different way. Even the men look slightly worried for whoever it is.
The blond man’s boots click against the floor as he paces, his gaze drifting over each of us, slow and deliberate. Then it stops… on me.
“You.”
“Me?”
He nods once. “You’ll serve the commander.”
“No.” I blurt out. “No, I won’t.”
He cocks his head. “You don't have a choice, Reddy. Here, you do as you are told.”
“I’d rather die.” My voice shakes, but I don’t look away.
The man watches me for a while before smiling. “Perfect,” he says. “Commander Ruel needs someone to keep him busy. Maybe then we’ll have fewer drills.”
The others roar with laughter.
But my blood runs to ice.
Commander Ruel?
No, not him. The man who shows no mercy. The Alpha King's deadliest weapon…
“Take me back!” I snap, fear curling around my lungs. “Take me back to my family! Anna, Oren… they need me!”
The man steps closer, his cold eyes fixed on me. “Listen carefully, there's no escaping here. If you’re worried about home…” He tilts his head. “Pray for them.”
Tears sting my eyes but I hold it back, refusing to shed a tear.
He leans closer, so close I can see the scar cutting across his chin. “But if I were you,” he whispers, “I’d save the prayers for myself.”