Slave to the Savage Alpha

(Zorya)

Unlike my name, which meant fiery and strong, I was neither. I couldn't protect my home, my village, and my sister when they came for us.

“No, no, please stop,” I begged, my hand clasped, but the weak had no say.

They had already burnt my home with my sister inside. The blazing beams and logs tumbled to the ground, the smoke making me cough and my eyes water. The screaming had clogged my throat, and tears blurred my vision.

The pillagers burnt everything to the ground, killed the elderly, and kidnapped girls and boys to be sold in underground slave markets. That was how the Kingdom of Dhura was run. The weak human settlements had no say or security in this shifter kingdom.

They dragged out our chief and his wife. Tied him in the centre of the village gathering ground and burnt them alive.

Their excruciating screams made our hearts tremble, and our souls weep.

Their daughter and my best friend, Samana, was made to watch. I held her trembling, shaking body as she begged them for mercy.

None came. We held each other and cried together.

After destroying our village and setting fire to it so no evidence would remain, they chained the rest of us.

“Move along, slave.” The burly pillager with a crooked tooth and menacing demeanour pushed me so violently that I stumbled against the heavy chains holding me and crashed to the ground, scraping my knees.

Tears stumbled out of my eyes. The emotional pain was worse than the physical pain.

He grabbed my hair and pushed me into a black van with a bunch of other girls and boys from our village.

Terrified and crying, we huddled together in fear. Samana sat beside me. I held her trembling hands. The vans began to move.

“Where are they taking us?” She asked in a frightened voice.

“I don't know.” I tried to stare out the window, but it was pitch dark, and I could see nothing.

“Zahra?” Samana questioned in a shaking voice, and a sob left me. I shook my head. My sister was gone; they had burnt her inside the house.

“What's going to happen to us?” Samana placed her head on my shoulder.

I had no idea what the future held or what they intended to do, but it wouldn't be bright anymore.

The journey took us a few hours. The night had fallen outside when the vans came to a halt.

They pulled us out into the cold night. Shackled, hysterical and petrified, we were made to line up. Boys were dragged away into the darkness, screaming and crying, and five of us girls remained.

The sharp clack of long heels against the concrete was like the tolling of an iron bell, announcing the ominous arrival of someone.

“Virgins?” The stiff and bored voice asked the pillagers, as if she had done it a million times.

Cherry red lips, eyes like vipers and a smile like a vixen. My heart trembled even staring at the sight of her.

“Dunno, we just hauled them here.” One of them answered.

Her scrutinising gaze took all of us in, judgemental and precise.

“Take her away.” She pointed to our baker’s daughter. “No one is going to buy a plain-looking slave. Do with her as you please.” She shushed her away, and Arda was dragged screaming and crying.

“No, please.” I whimpered, and her cruel eyes fixed on me.

She grabbed my face. “Are you a virgin?”

Fear had me gulping, and I couldn't speak. My throat was clogged. What were they going to do?

“Have the doctor inspect them. The auction is tomorrow. I want them ready.” She pushed my face back. “If we don't find any virgins, it will be such a waste. Human whores hardly wait nowadays.”

We were led through the dark tunnels and into a room where a woman in a lab coat sat, along with two others. All appeared to be shifters from their height and build, far stronger than us humans.

A bed in the middle and some surgical instruments on the table.

“Inspect them and tell us which of them are virgins.” The pillager left us there.

Fright gripped us as the doctor gave us a tentative look and sternly ordered.

“Take off your clothes and lie on the bed.”

None of us moved; the horrors of what awaited us scuttled down our spines.

The doctor sighed.

“Grab her,” she pointed towards me, and Samana gripped me tighter.

“It's fine,” I whispered to her, trying to keep my voice from trembling. I knew fighting them would land us in more trouble.

The two strong women, built like warriors, grabbed me and forcefully took off my clothes down to my underwear, shredding my modesty and dignity.

The shame had me closing my eyes.

The others sobbed while they laid me flat on the bed. The doctor began the inspection, and I tightly clutched my eyes shut.

“Virgin,” she announced, writing it down on the clipboard.

“Age?” She demanded.

“21!”

Pushing me off the bed, they repeated the same process with others.

Samana and I were virgins; the other two weren't. We were separated again, pushed into two different rooms.

“They are going to sell us. This is the black market for sex slaves,” Samana whimpered, making a shudder pass through my system.

I had heard horror stories of human slaves kept by shifters for leisure purposes. The human women were prized for their soft skin and fragile bodies. The evil-minded shifters enjoyed hurting and wrecking them.

We were given some food. The night passed with none of us sleeping a blink. I couldn't stop thinking about my sister, my village, the screams, the fire.

The next day, we were dragged out of the room and forcefully bathed and scrubbed. Both of us were given sheer white gowns to wear, which barely covered our knees, with no undergarments. The chains remained on our ankles and wrists so we wouldn't even think of running away.

“It's time.” A pillager announced, who looked like a human version of a rhinoceros. His salacious gaze took us in, and I wanted to punch his stupid face.

We were pushed through a labyrinth of narrow, dark corridors and behind a large curtain.

A few more girls around our age stood there, wearing the same gowns as we were. One by one, they were taken in front of the curtain and sold off. We could hear their cries, the announcement of the speaker and the bids being made.

Samana trembled like a leaf in my hold. “I don't want to become a sex slave, Zorya. I wish they had killed me with my parents.”

I hugged her tight and wished the same.

She was dragged away from my arms, and I stared at my shivering, empty hands. Her teary face, her outstretched hand, her mind-numbing screams.

The world slowed down, my knees shook, and I crumbled to the ground, tears making my gaze hazy.

Samana seemed to have been sold off because I was the last one to drag on to the stage under blinding lights. My eyes burned, and I couldn't see anyone sitting in front.

“One of the finest specimens from our recent pillage. Virgin. 21 years old. Ripe as a strawberry. Perfect curves. And look at this silver hair, so rare.” He pointed at my hair. “Legend says they bring good luck. The bidding starts at ten thousand dollars.”

Laughter and jeering followed.

I could feel hundreds of gazes at me. My hands grabbed the sides of my gown and tried to push it down.

“Twenty thousand,” a heavy voice came.

“Thirty thousand,” another voice erupted, making my face burn with shame and regret. I wished I had died in the fire with my sister; at least I wouldn't be going through this shame.

“One million dollars!” A heavy and yet charming voice, like one wrapped in black silk, came with finality, making a hush fall over the hall.

My saddened eyes tried to see who had spoken.

“One million dollars,

Going once…

Twice…”

A hush remained, and no one spoke.

“Thrice...sold to Alpha in the golden mask.”

The announcer announced. I fell to my knees, crying.

The spotless black boots landed in front of me, and someone grabbed my chin, lifting it.

The coldest pair of blue eyes I could imagine peered through the gold mask that decorated the upper part of his face. The dark brown hair was styled back, his razor-sharp, angular jaw was visible, and his lips were thin.

The man was like a mystical fictional hero and terrifying like a villain from a horror story, and he had just bought me.