All Chapters of THE SLAVE WHO REJECTED THE ALPHA : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The man tried. He gathered the little he had and advanced awkwardly, more out of impulse than technique. Ravok dodged easily, as if he had already expected it, and turned his body right after, striking his side hard. The impact was dry. The soldier lost his balance at once and fell, unable to hold his own weight.He still tried to brace himself, but his arm gave out. He stayed there for a moment, breathing badly, unable to get up.Ravok only looked. He took a step back, running a hand over his face, as if none of it had required effort. He picked up a cloth thrown nearby and wiped his hands, far too calmly for the situation.Behind him, Romeo moved. He pushed away from the wall and went to the soldier, crouching beside him. He held the man’s arm and pulled him up firmly, without care, but without making the situation worse. “Get up,” he said.The soldier obeyed, a little crooked, trying to steady himself.I remained standing at the door, quiet, only then realizing I had been holding m

His voice came out low, near my head, and his breath slid down my neck.Then he pulled.The sword came off the floor without effort in his hands, while mine merely followed the movement. The weight that had seemed impossible before simply rose, controlled by him, making my arms rise with it.I felt the difference at once… it was not my strength holding that up.With the blade in the air, he came closer, his chest pressing against my back, firm, keeping my body in place. The sweat on his skin crossed through the thin fabric of my nightgown.“The feet.” One of his feet touched my ankle from behind, pushing it to the side. My legs were still almost together, unstable, and he forced a little more space, opening my stance. “Spread them.”I obeyed, moving my foot a few centimeters, still unbalanced, and felt his body adjusting mine from behind at once, aligning my hips with his, holding the position.One of hi

POV MelanyIt was very late, already in the early hours of dawn almost giving way to the beginning of the day, and Rose slowly passed the comb through my hair, the strands sliding between the wooden teeth, and I watched each movement through the reflection in the mirror.The silence was almost comfortable, until the words escaped my mouth before I could think better. “I had a dream.” My voice sounded low. “I dreamed about my mother.”Rose’s eyes met mine in the glass. We stayed like that for a moment, trapped in the reflection, until she slightly arched her eyebrows, without stopping the movement of the comb.“The woman in the stable is my mother, Rose. I am sure of it. I dreamed about her and my father.”The comb slid more slowly. “It was only a dream, girl,” Rose assured me.“No, Rose. I know when it is only a dream. That woman is afraid. I spent my entire life missing having a mo

The next day, the smell of strong coffee already filled the air before I even crossed the kitchen door, mixed with the sweetness of freshly cut fruit and the damp heat rising from the stove that had been lit since early morning. I followed Rose in silence, watching how naturally she moved through the space, as if every corner already knew what to expect from her.She brewed the coffee with precise movements, organized baskets of bread still warm, and washed fruit under the constant thread of water, which hit the sink with a rhythmic and almost hypnotic sound, and I, beside her, only watched, feeling that any gesture of mine would be out of place there.The floorboards creaked low under the steps of the other two workers, who crossed the kitchen carrying full platters, moving around us in a hurry. The clinking of dishes, the dragging of chairs in the distance, and the distant murmur of the hall beginning to fill created a layer of sound that made everything strangely al

She nodded, but the movement was fragile, and it convinced neither me nor herself. “I am sorry, Melany,” she said, and now her voice came broken, scraping in her throat. “I also lost my daughter to powerful people. These wolves…” She turned her face toward the castle. “They take everything from people like us, less important people. I would love to be your mother, because that would mean my daughter is alive, but…”The air grew heavy between us, unbearable, and I felt that, if she finished that sentence, something inside me would not withstand it.“You are not my mother,” I completed, before she could say it. The words came out fast, and in the next instant they were already hurting me.She brought her hand to her mouth, her body bending slightly, and the crying that had been silent before broke completely, stronger, louder, impossible to contain.I did not move. I could not. I stayed there, st