Chapter 4 Four
The music began. It was a slow, haunting melody played on a stringed instrument that grated against my ears. I did not move at first. The iron collar around my neck felt heavier than usual, and the chains connecting my wrists to my ankles rattled with the slightest tremor of my hands.
"Move, slave!" Leonard barked from his throne.
I shifted my weight. I began the forms my mother had taught me in the courtyard so many years ago. They were meant for combat, for the fluid movement of a warrior, but under Leonard’s command, they had been twisted into a dance of humiliation. I moved my arms in a slow arc, the chains clashing. My bare feet gripped the wooden stage. I kept my eyes on the floor, avoiding the lecherous gazes of the men sitting at the tables below.
I felt the heat of the room, the smell of wine and sweat, and the sharp sting of the lye burns on my fingers. My father sat next to the guest of honor, his face red from drink. He laughed at something the man said and pointed a finger at me.
"See that, Alpha Riya?" my father said, his voice carrying over the music. "The Lieu grace. My wife used to do that before she died. Now it’s just a trick for the dogs."
The men laughed. I kept my face blank. I was a ghost. I was not there.
Then, the heavy doors at the back of the hall groaned open. The music stopped abruptly. The air in the room didn't just turn cold; it became heavy, pressing down on everyone’s lungs. I stopped mid-motion, my arms raised, the chains pulled taut.
A group of men walked in. They wore black leather and carried weapons that looked well-used. But it was the man in the center who demanded every eye in the room. He was tall, his shoulders broad, and his hair was as black as the midnight sky. He looked to be in his late thirties, his face etched with a stern, immovable authority. This was Demon Deacon. The Hollow King.
Leonard stood up immediately, his arrogant posture vanishing into a shallow bow. "King Deacon! We did not expect you so soon. Please, come and join us."
Demon did not answer. He walked toward the center of the hall, his boots thudding with a rhythm that made my heart hit against my ribs.
Aurora.
The voice was not in the room. It was inside my head. It was a voice I hadn't heard in eleven years. My wolf. The one they had suppressed with silver and drugs for a decade.
When you go to the club tonight, you will meet your mate, the wolf whispered. It is important you do not look away. You must make eye contact. He will save you. He will help you.
The voice vanished as quickly as it had come. I felt a surge of heat in my chest that nearly made me gasp. I looked up. I ignored the guards. I ignored Leonard. I looked directly at the man walking toward the stage.
Demon Deacon stopped. He was twenty feet away, but our eyes locked. His eyes were a dark, piercing grey. He didn't blink. He didn't look at Leonard. He didn't look at the feast laid out on the tables. He looked at me. He looked at the chains on my wrists and the red hair falling over my shoulders.
I didn't look away. I held his gaze with a defiance I didn't know I still possessed.
"King Deacon?" Leonard said, stepping down from the dais. He sounded nervous. "Please, sit. This is Alpha Riya’s father, and my Beta, Aurora’s... well, he’s my second in command."
Demon finally broke the stare, but only to glance at Leonard. He walked to the high table and sat in the chair Leonard had vacated. His men stood behind him like statues.
"The lands, Leonard," Demon said. His voice was a low rumble that vibrated through the floorboards. "I am not here for pleasantries."
"Of course, of course," Leonard said, signaling for my father to bring the wine. "We have the maps ready. We can discuss the borders of the eastern territory. I am willing to grant you the valley if we can reach an agreement on the trade routes."
My father stood up, clutching a crystal decanter. He walked to Demon’s side and poured the wine with a shaking hand. He looked like a servant, a dog eager to please a new master.
"We are honored by your presence, King," my father said, bowing low.
Demon didn't look at him. He didn't touch the wine. His eyes moved back to the stage, back to me.
"Where is your Luna, Leonard?" Demon asked. "I was told she would be hosting tonight. I usually meet the mistress of the house during these negotiations."
Leonard cleared his throat. He glanced toward the back of the hall where his guards stood. "My Luna is... she is indisposed. She is pregnant with my heir, you see. The doctor has ordered her to stay in her chambers. She is very delicate at the moment."
I knew he was lying. Everyone in the pack knew the Luna was barren. The only woman in this fortress carrying Leonard’s child was an Omega named Sarah, who was currently locked in a damp cell in the basement because the Luna couldn't stand the sight of her.
"Pregnant," Demon repeated. He didn't sound convinced.
"Yes," Leonard said quickly. "She hates the thought of missing this, but the child comes first. Now, about the gold bars and the landscape—"
I tried to step back, to move out of the light of the torches, but the chain between my ankles was too short. I tripped. My knees hit the wooden stage with a loud crack. The chains rattled violently.
The hall went silent. Leonard’s face turned a deep, angry purple. He looked at the guards standing near the stage.
"Kasper!" Leonard roared. "What are you doing? Teach that slave some manners! She is embarrassing us in front of the King!"
A guard named Kasper stepped onto the stage. He didn't hesitate. He raised his hand and backhanded me across the face. The force of the blow sent me sprawling onto the wood. My vision blurred. I tasted blood in my mouth.
"I apologize for the inconvenience, King," Leonard said, his voice smooth again. "She is a clumsy thing. Hard to train."
"Who is she?" Demon asked.