His Slave, Not His Mate
Amelia's POV:
"You can reject me a thousand times, but I won’t give up on you. Because you belong to me.” He said softly.
Hissing through my teeth, I turned and walked deeper into the forest. Just then, an arrow sliced through the air and missed me by inches.
A scream tore from my throat as I dropped to the ground, eyes squeezed shut.
“Get up.” Damien’s voice commanded.
I opened my eyes and found him crouched beside me.
“I said get up.” He repeated.
My body ached as I sat up. “Where are you taking me?” I whispered.
His gaze didn’t waver. “Home.”
“Yours or mine?” I asked but he didn’t answer.
He led me past the watching eyes of guards and hunters, back toward the forest's edge where two young men sat astride a single horse.
Both bore a resemblance to Damien—gray eyes, chiseled jawline—but I couldn’t yet tell which one was Adrian and which was Klaus, the mutt who’d put a bounty on my head.
Their lips parted as if they had something to say, but for whatever reason, they kept quiet.
“Weren’t we supposed to wait for the guards to get her?” One of them finally asked. “Why did you run off after her?”
Damien didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to a man dressed in hunting leathers and said. “I left my horse deeper in the woods. Go fetch it.”
The man nodded and disappeared into the trees. A few minutes later, he returned with a dark-furred stallion, with hints of white around the eyes.
Without a word, Damien lifted me onto the saddle, then mounted behind me. He turned to his brothers. “Shall we?”
I sat slumped in front of the dark prince who'd saved me—or cursed me further, I wasn’t sure which.
With a tug of the reins, his horse turned to the right, and his brothers joined us, one on each side.
“You could’ve left her behind, Damien.” The second brother muttered after a few minutes of silence.
“She was good game.” He continued. “You should’ve tossed her into the slave pit—let next year’s hunt have some real excitement.”
Damien said nothing for a while, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low as he declared. “She’s mine, Adrian.”
Mine. The word made my heart race.
"The first brother, who I now knew was Klaus, let out a chuckle. “You? That’s rich. I had my eyes on her first, so she's mine to claim.”
“You should’ve run faster, then.” Damien kicked his horse, and we surged ahead.
The wind caught my face, tangling my hair, and I shut my eyes against the sting. .
My heart pounded—not with fear exactly, but the growing anticipation of not knowing what fate I’d just traded death for.
When we reached the towering black gates of the palace, they creaked open with groans. I stared in awe—high spires like spears stabbed the clouds, and the stone looked like it had soaked in centuries of blood.
Damien dismounted and dragged me down by the arm, not cruelly, but not gently either.
“Hurry up.” He muttered. “Don’t fall behind.”
I stumbled to keep up with his long strides as we entered a grand marble corridor. My bare feet padded softly on the icy floors. We turned the corner—and stopped because a figure blocked the hallway.
Before us stood a tall man draped in silver-trimmed robes, whose presence made Damien slow immediately.
“Father.” Damien said, bowing his head slightly. I lowered mine too, something in me trembling like a cornered doe.
The man’s gaze settled on me. His blue eyes stared too long, and I swallowed hard.
“Who is she?” The Alpha asked finally.
“The slave I claimed today.” Damien replied. His hand tightened slightly around my arm.
There was a pause. The Alpha’s eyes did not leave mine, and I didn’t dare blink.
“So be it.” He said at last. “The hunt is over, so she will work in the palace. See to it she’s properly registered and assigned.”
He turned to a young maid who had been wiping a vase with a rag nearby. “You!”
She stepped forward with a curtsy so quick she nearly lost her footing. “Yes, my Lord.”
“Take the girl to Madam Roxana.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
Damien opened his mouth to speak, but his father turned to him. “Come. We have matters to discuss.”
He hesitated for a moment—then dropped my wrist and walked away without looking back.
The maid’s fingers closed around mine. “Come on,” She said quietly. “Before Madam Roxana finds us standing idle.”
I followed her through a maze of corridors. Then we reached a wide hall, and portraits stretched across the walls with golden frames.
She pointed at each as we walked. “That’s the Alpha, Lord Thorne. His Luna, Lady Scarlete, sits beside him. The one in red armor—that’s Klaus, the last of the triplets. The one with the silver chain is Adrian, the second. And that...” She paused at a portrait of a man whose gray eyes mirrored the one who’d dragged me here, “...is the first son, Prince Damien.”
I stared at it longer than I meant to. His painted eyes followed me like he knew what I was thinking, like he was warning me not to dare.
“If you see any of them, you curtsy.” She said, voice dropping. “Don’t speak unless spoken to, keep your eyes down. And never—never—walk past the throne room unless summoned.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “What’s your name?” I asked.
“Mira.” She replied. “And yours?”
“Amelia.”
“Well, Amelia.” Mira whispered as she glanced over her shoulder. “Madam Roxana is the head of us all. She can whip you or reward you, depending on her mood. Mind her.”
As if summoned by her own name, a door slammed open and a tall, hawk-faced woman in black stormed down the corridor.
“Where’s Maren?” She barked.
Mira stiffened beside me. “The Luna sent her on an errand, Madam Roxana.”
“Who is she?” She barked, turning to face me.
I startled, nearly tripping and the bucket. Mira quickly stepped forward. “We were on our way to meet you, Madam Roxana.” Mira said hurriedly. “She’s the new slave brought in by Prince Damien.”
Madam Roxana turned back to me as her eyes scanned me slowly. From the dirt smudging my bare ankles to the dried blood still crusting beneath my collar.
“Stand straight.” She said sharply.
I scrambled upright.
She walked a slow circle around me, then she stopped in front of me, arms folded tightly across her chest.
“Has she been told the rules?” She asked without looking at Mira, her eyes fixed on mine like a needle.
Mira glanced at me nervously. “I—I’ve started, Madam. I was going to finish after—”
“I asked the girl.”
I nodded, quickly. “Yes, Madam. Some of them.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Some?”
Her voice was calm now, which was somehow worse.
“I—I was told to curtsy to the royal family, never speak unless spoken to, not to walk past the throne room unless summoned… and that you are the head of all the maids.”
A second of silence passed. Then she spoke again. “Then listen well, because I will only say this once more, and if you forget, you’ll regret it with every lash of my whip.”
I stiffened.
“One: You will rise before dawn. You will sleep only when your chores are complete. No complaints. No tears. If your bones ache, let them. It means you’re not yet dead.”
She stepped closer, her face inches from mine.
“Two: You will not speak to anyone above your station unless addressed first. That includes nobles, warriors, sons of the Alpha, and especially the Luna. And should you ever be foolish enough to look the Alpha in the eye, you best pray he does not notice you.”
I swallowed hard, knowing that I had already done that.
“Three.” She continued, circling again. “Your hands belong to me. If the silver is not polished, if the beds are wrinkled, if the floor has dirt, then it's your fault. You shame me, and I’ll show you just how long a body can survive without skin.”
I felt Mira flinch beside me.
“Four: The Prince who brought you here is not your savior. You owe him no loyalty. Nor do you forget your place because he dragged you in here like a pretty little trophy. You are no different than the rest of them in the slave pens. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Madam.” I whispered, my throat dry.
She leaned in closer. “Louder.”
“Yes, Madam!”
Her lips curled, but not quite into a smile. “Good. At least you have a tongue.”
Then she turned to Mira. “See to it she scrubs the Great Hall from corner to corner. I want to see my own reflection in these floors by sunset. After that, she reports to the scullery. Understood?”
“Yes, Madam.” Mira replied quickly.
Madam Roxana turned around without another word and swept from the hall, her black skirts trailing behind.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Mira placed a hand on my arm. “You’re lucky. That was her in a good mood.”
Lucky.
If this was luck… I wondered what punishment would feel like.
Mira sighed. “Welcome to the palace.”
After that, she took me to fetch a heavy wooden bucket, filled it with water, and handed me a soaked rag. Together, we walked to a massive chamber with marble floors that stretched endlessly.
“This is the Great Hall.” Mira said. “Scrub the corners first. Start with the baseboards, always.”
I knelt, dipping the rag. My hands were already raw from the hunt, and now the freezing water bit at my fingers.
While I worked, the sound of approaching footsteps caught my attention. I looked up to see a beautiful woman walking toward us.
She was lovely—perfect, really. Golden hair in a braid, lips red as cherries, eyes the color of melted honey.
I turned to see that Mira's head was already bowed low, so I followed. “That must be the Alpha's daughter.” I whispered, already bowing.
Mira shook her head. “No.” She replied. “That’s Lady Larisa.”
I blinked. “I don’t remember a painting of her.”
“There isn’t one. She’s not royal. But Lady Scarlet's chosen wife for Prince Damien.”
My heart stumbled. He already has… a chosen Mate?